


King and Queen

by Kate_Shepard



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, BDSM, Belts, Bloodplay, Bondage, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Knifeplay, Porn, Porn With Plot, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Previous Nihlus/FemShep, Rope Bondage, S&M, Shameless Smut, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 73,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6668719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Shepard/pseuds/Kate_Shepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A teenage Shepard is rescued from Mindoir by Steven Hackett. It sets in motion a series of events that changes both of them forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks goes to Demonika for providing beta, a sounding board, and helping me keep my back-stories clear! She was a huge help on this story!

Kate Shepard breathed deeply, absorbing the clean scent of fresh cut hay, as she walked down the lane. It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright and warm in a cloudless sky and a cool breeze stirred the golden leaves of the trees that lined the path. This was her favorite kind of day. Her step was light and her mind was racing with thoughts of the upcoming harvest festival. Alex was going to ask her to go with him. She was sure of it and she didn’t know if she should accept. He had come home for a visit after completing basic training on Earth and would be here for two weeks. He’d come by her house often enough that her twin brother John had started joking about breaking out the shotgun. She thought it was a bit ridiculous. Alex was only three years older than she and they’d been friends most of their lives. She knew John liked Alex. He was just overprotective. There wasn’t any reason to be. Alex was her best friend. He was a good guy but he probably wouldn’t be coming back to Mindoir for a long time after this. She was too young to commit to waiting for someone like that and she knew it.

Her brow furrowed slightly as a new odor mingled with the earthier ones to which she was accustomed. It wasn’t uncommon to smell smoke as the farmers burned fallen leaves or chaff from the grains they harvested but this was different from the woodsy smell she’d come to expect. There was something acrid about it that seared her nostrils and made her eyes water. It reminded her of the day that Lizzie’s house caught fire. Lizzie lived three houses down from Kate and was a friend of hers. Her father, Adam Shepard, had been working in the fields when he’d seen the flames and had alerted the fire department before rushing over to help. Everyone knew Lizzie’s grandmother was disabled and Adam had run in after her without hesitation. Something had happened and neither of them had made it out. Kate, John, and Lizzie had arrived home from school as the firefighters were trying to extinguish the blaze. The smell of fire was forever sealed into her memory as one that signaled death and the scent of it now made her heart race. She began to run. 

Smoke rose in the distance, black and oily and roiling, and she thought that there was too much for just one house. It had been dry lately and if someone had lit a brush fire too close to a dwelling, it was very possible that it had spread to more. She thought of John and her mother, Hannah, and heard the chanting prayer that left her lips intermingle with the slap of her shoes on the dusty road and a rattling sound that came from the village ahead. “Please let them be okay. Please let them be safe. Please, God, keep them safe.”

The rattling sound grew louder as she approached the rise that would bring the settlement into view and she heard deep voices shouting as others screamed. Gunfire. That’s what that sound was. Why would someone be shooting instead of putting out the fire? It made no sense. She slowed as the fear morphed into something else and some self-preservation instinct drove her to crouch behind a rocky outcropping. She peered between a crack in the rocks and clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the scream that tried to rise in her throat. 

She knew what batarians were. Everyone out here did. They were an alien race that liked to hit outlying colonies to kidnap slaves to take back to their alien world or sell to people out in the Terminus Systems. No one knew exactly what happened to the people they took but she’d heard rumors about control chips and hard labor and, for the females, lifetimes of forced prostitution. She’d had nightmares as a child after encountering an escaped slave of the batarians coming to kidnap her and take her away. Her parents had recently decided that she and John were old enough to need their own rooms but he’d moved back into hers for a few months after that so that he could wake her up when the dreams came. He’d told her that the batarians wouldn’t come to Mindoir. Now they were here. 

They had done something with the Johnson’s cattle and now, instead of the six-legged space cows, the pen was full of people. People she recognized. Lizzie was there and so was John’s friend Caleb. Their families were there as well. The Salazars with their three small children were huddled in a corner and the baby was crying. One of the four-eyed aliens walked over and roughly grabbed the baby from her mother’s arms and shot her in the head before throwing her aside like a broken doll. Mrs. Salazar screamed and Mr. Salazar rushed the batarian. It shot him, too, and he slumped to the ground. The other children ran to him and the batarian growled something. Mrs. Salazar took the children and shoved them behind her and Kate could see her lips moving as she tried to quiet them. 

Hot tears streamed down Kate’s face and her stomach roiled. She turned to the side and tried to be quiet as she lost the lunch that Alex’ mom had made for her when she’d gone over to the next village to get a part for the tractor as an excuse to see him. She tilted her head back to clear her eyes and saw a ship fly over in the direction of his settlement. She had to warn him. She pulled up her omni-tool and sent a message. _We’re under attack. Batarians. More headed your way._

She noticed her mother and John in a far corner of the pen. Hannah was pulling at John’s arm as he tried to reach another batarian who had walked over and punched Lizzie in the head. “Oh, God, no,” she whispered. “Mom. John. No.” The batarian dragged Lizzie out by the hair and Kate saw the flash of a blade. Her first thought was that he’d stabbed her. Then she saw that, aside from the thin red line down the front of her body, she was unharmed. The alien had parted Lizzie’s clothing. She heard John shout and saw him break from their mother’s hold. Another alien backhanded him with an armored fist and blood poured from his broken nose. A second blow had him on the ground. He didn’t move. Hannah ran to him. 

Kate had never thought of herself as particularly brave. She was a farmer’s daughter. She knew how to work hard, run a tractor, birth a cow, and could tell you anything you wanted to know about soil composition and crop rotations and could read the weather as easily as she read a book. She got good marks in school and had a few good friends. She wasn’t boy crazy like some of her friends and had been told that she was too serious for her age but, for the most part, she was a typical teenage girl. John was the fighter, the techie, the one who dreamed of a future in the Alliance and spent hours prying every bit of information from Alex that he could on military life. None of that mattered now. 

She removed her shoes and tucked them into a crevice between the rocks. Her hands shook as she activated her omni-tool and brought up the tactical cloak that John had installed on it after he’d figured out how to hack the devices. She felt the tingle that told her it was working and slipped out from behind her shelter. The batarians were focused on the front of the houses, so she ran as lightly and swiftly as she could to the back of the nearest dwelling. Her heart pounded so hard that she was sure it could be heard over the chaos and her mouth was as dry as the brown grass that covered the yards behind the houses. She ignored the small rocks that poked into her feet. She went barefoot often enough that the soles were toughened and the pebbles were more of an annoyance than anything else. 

The cloak had a short recharge time but didn’t last very long, either, as John still hadn’t worked out all of the fine details, so she used it to dart through the open areas and utilized the houses, shrubs, and outbuildings to cover her movements while it charged. She told herself that it wasn’t much different than going hunting with John and trying to avoid startling the deer that were their prey. Stay downwind, move quietly, use the terrain to keep out of sight. She knew how to do that. She disregarded the insistent thought that deer didn’t carry guns and rape her friends in front of the entire neighborhood. 

Though she wanted to breathe a sigh of relief when she made it unnoticed to her house, she held it. Something told her that getting there had been the easy part. She’d formulated a plan while waiting to move between buildings and it was going to be tough. The sounds of screaming coming from the front wouldn’t let her hesitate, though, so she carefully wiped the dust from her feet. The cloak wouldn’t do her any good if she was leaving dirty footprints everywhere she walked. A glance through the windows told her that the kitchen was empty and she sent up a silent thanks for the good fortune as she slipped inside. 

Her mother was neat to the point of obsession and the sight of the house in disarray was painful. The smell of baking bread mixed with the scent of smoke from the burning houses across the way and made her stomach churn again. She swallowed and pushed the nausea down as she cloaked again and crept up the stairs, taking care to avoid the creaky third step. She peered into John’s room and found it empty as well, though the room appeared to have been ransacked. The door to her own was ajar and she saw that it had been torn apart as well. They’d been looking for her. That meant they might come back. She needed to hurry. 

The bed had been flipped over but either they hadn’t noticed the drawer in the side of the frame or hadn’t thought it important. She righted the frame without bothering with the mattress and typed in the code that caused the drawer to glide out. A deep sigh of relief escaped her as John’s gun case appeared. She tucked the pistol into the waistband of her pants and drew out the Viper. He had taught her how to use the sniper rifle and she knew she was a damn good shot. She was better than he was, in fact. He preferred the shotgun or assault rifle but she couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with the assault rifle and hated the shotgun. The pistol and sniper rifle were comfortable to her and he’d kept them for just that reason. 

She wished briefly for armor like the soldiers had but made do with crossing to her room and donning the boots she used while hunting. They seemed appropriate. She was hunting. She just wasn’t going to be hunting deer this time. She hoped that, when the time came, she could bring herself to pull the trigger. “They aren’t people,” she whispered to herself, as much for the sake of hearing a voice—any voice, even if it was her own—that wasn’t screaming in fear or pain. “They’re monsters. Four-eyed freaky monsters. It isn’t wrong to kill monsters.”

She cloaked and carefully went back down to the kitchen to fill a pail with water. She didn’t know how long this was going to take and she wanted to make sure she didn’t need to leave for anything once she’d started. She stuffed food from the pantry into her pockets and carried her things back upstairs. She had to jump to reach the access point for the attic but she did it and pulled down the rickety ladder that led above. Almost as an afterthought, she cut the pull-cord. It wouldn’t stop them from getting in but it would make it more difficult and they’d have to make noise. She was aware that she was setting herself up with nowhere to run if she was found, but all she had to do was kill the batarians out front and give the others a chance to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have trouble reading fics with a Shepard who has a first name, it won't be used again after Mindoir.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nondescriptive non-con in this chapter. (Not Shepard)

The ladder tucked back up into its spot with a creak that made her wince and she froze for several minutes until she was sure that she hadn’t been heard. Then she made her way across the attic. This was her secret spot with John, the place where she went when she needed somewhere to think or to dream or plan without being bothered. He was the only other person who knew that she used it and she thought sometimes that her mother had forgotten it was even here. Therefore, she knew all of the idiosyncrasies of the place, all of the spots where sound traveled to and from the rest of the house, the places where the floor would transmit her tread to anyone below, the places where she could see various spots around the house. She crept across with her things until she was situated in front of the air vent that led outside. Thankfully, it wasn’t summer. It got very stifling very quickly up here in the summer and was freezing in the winter. She usually didn’t care but sweat could get in her eyes and shaking hands would mess up her shots. 

The slats between the vents hid her and the spaces between them were large enough to allow her to see and to slide the barrel of the rifle through without it catching on anything. Kate put her eye to the scope and evaluated the area. She counted two dozen batarians and almost fifty hostages. She forced herself to count the bodies as well and tried to pretend that the unmoving form on the ground in front of her mother wasn’t her twin. They’d taken the entire village. She closed her eyes tightly. 

“Help me help them,” she said under her breath. When she opened her eyes again, she adjusted the rifle so that it was aiming at the batarian that had buried itself between her friend’s legs. They all looked the same to her so she didn’t know if it was the one who’d cut Lizzie’s clothes off or if it was a different one. It didn’t matter. He was hurting her friend. “Breathe in, breathe out. Squeeze gently; don’t pull. In...out…” She squeezed the trigger at the culmination of her exhale and the rifle bucked against her shoulder. The batarian flew back and landed in a heap. Lizzie screamed and scrambled up off of the ground. She looked dazed and Kate saw Mr. Johnson leap the fence and grab her. He pulled her back into the pen and Mrs. Johnson ran to her. 

Kate pulled the rifle in as the batarians looked around for the source of the shot. She could hear their growling voices but couldn’t make out the words. She found herself holding her breath as her hands began to shake. She had just killed someone. “It wasn’t a person. It was a monster. It’s okay to kill monsters,” she told herself. She threw up again anyway and used a small bit of the water she’d brought to rinse out her mouth before looking out of the vent again. The batarians were still trying to find the shooter but, so far, none of them seemed to be looking up. They were, however, looking in her direction. She needed to confuse them, so she took aim on another one down the street. It was a longer shot than she was used to, so she took several deep breaths to steady her hands before taking the shot. It went down. 

The growls turned to shouts as the aliens scrambled to figure out who was targeting them. Kate saw Hannah raise her head from _not John, that isn’t John, that’s someone else_ and glance around before scanning the rooftops. Her eyes stopped on the vent where Kate was hidden and she remembered that her mother had been in the navy for almost ten years before meeting her father and leaving the service. Mom had been an infiltrator. She knew. 

Kate watched as Hannah raised her hands to her eyes as if to wipe away tears and flicked them in the direction of another batarian. Mom was helping. She wasn’t alone anymore. The knowledge steadied her and Kate took down the one that her mother had gestured toward. Hannah’s lips quirked slightly and her face took on that expression that Kate recalled from times before when she’d done something unexpected but that showed her backbone. It said, _That’s my girl_. Hannah wiped the back of her head, showing Kate her palm. Hold. Kate withdrew the rifle and checked her omni-tool to see if Alex had gotten her message while she waited. The message had gone through but when she tried to send another, it bounced back and told her the user was unavailable. She didn’t want to think about what that meant.

One of the colonists decided to take advantage of the chaos and try to make a run for it. She was shot down a few feet outside of the pen and Kate took out the one that had shot her. Four down. Twenty more to go. Hannah scowled slightly. She hadn’t wanted her to do that. She’d ordered her to hold. Kate pulled her rifle back in again and ducked her head. “Sorry, Mom.” 

A few minutes later, one of the aliens strode into the pen and shot four people in quick succession. Kate’s eyes widened in horror and she looked to her mother as she began to shake again. The message had been clear. For every one of theirs she took out, they were going to take a human. Hannah flashed a look around before mouthing, _Not your fault, baby._ She looked pointedly at the one who’d shot them and Kate shook her head before realizing that her mother couldn’t see her. She couldn’t do it. If she did, they’d just bring someone else in and shoot another person. She could be signing her mother’s death warrant with every squeeze of the trigger. Hannah’s eyes narrowed into the mom look that told her not to argue and flicked over to the shooter again. Kate blinked away her tears before obediently bringing the rifle back up. Why was her mom willing to risk this?

She thought hard as she lined up the shot. The colonists were done for. She’d seen the other ship. Where there were two, there were likely more. Help wouldn’t be coming from anywhere else. Kate was it. She was the only one who was free and fighting. If she failed or did not act, the colonists would be enslaved or killed. Slavery likely meant torture and abuse. She’d seen what these people—monsters—did to humans. They killed babies and raped teenage girls. A quick death, at least, was preferable to a life with these…creatures. There were twice as many colonists as there were slavers. Even if they took one for every one she killed, at least half the village would survive. Half was better than none. And, once she’d picked their numbers off enough, the colonists could fight back. If a few of them got weapons, then she might be able to save more than half of them. That was the message Mom was sending. Sacrifice a few to save more. She’d never realized that her mother could be so cold. She took the shot. She’d never realized that she could be so cold.

As she’d expected, he was quickly replaced. This time, the alien who fired into the pen was out of sight. She couldn’t find him. Instead, she chose a different one. This one had grabbed Caleb and was dragging him. He went down and she cringed as the invisible shooter retaliated by taking Caleb out. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m sorry.” Something was building inside of her and she was terrified to let it break. She couldn’t keep letting them pick off her friends and neighbors. She wanted to make them afraid. She wanted to make them regret coming here. She fired off five shots as quickly as she could while maintaining her aim. This time, the batarians opened fire into the pen and took down ten. Two of hers for every one of theirs. She should have expected it. She couldn’t do it anymore. She dropped the rifle with a clatter and covered her face with her hands as she sobbed. She’d failed them. 

There was a roar and she looked up between her fingers to see a ship fly in and land in the field outside of the pen. The aliens converged and began grabbing colonists and dragging them toward the ship. She stifled a scream as she saw one grab her mother. Hannah lashed out with her fists and feet, taking the batarian to the ground. Kate shot him without hesitation. Another turned toward her mother and Hannah’s omni-tool glowed briefly before a ball of fire flew and wrapped the alien in flame. Kate let him burn and drank in his screams. It was about time one of them got to hurt, too. They came in a pair, then, and Kate took one but the other was too close to Hannah. She couldn’t get a shot without hitting her mother. More converged and began dragging her again. 

Kate searched desperately for a way to shoot them without risking the bullet tearing through them and into Mom. Unfortunately, by now, they’d guessed the direction if not the location, and they used Hannah as a shield. Her scope swung wildly as she tried to find an angle that wouldn’t work against her. One of them, a bright red creature with yellow and black stripes on the sides of his head that reminded her of a snake, hit Hannah and Kate saw blood fly from her nose. She recognized it as the same one that had killed John and she tried to shoot him but her aim was thrown off by the need to miss her mother. They reached the mouth of the cargo bay. Her mother fought like a wild varren but there were too many. Finally, Kate saw her look directly at the house and Hannah mouthed something. “No,” Kate said, rejecting the message. “No, Mom. Don’t make me. I can’t. I can’t do that.” 

Her mother’s voice was clear as she shouted, “Shoot me, Kate!” Kate took aim and closed her eyes as they dragged her mother into the ship and she squeezed the trigger. 

Her scream of denial ripped through the air and she dropped to the ground, unable to look out anymore. She couldn’t look and see her brother lying motionless on the ground or her mother with a hole through her that Kate herself had put there. She dropped to the floor with her hands over her face and rocked back and forth on her knees. The pistol dug into her back and she pulled it out with an angry swipe. She placed the barrel under her chin and whimpered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The attic hatch ripped open and Kate swung the pistol around to the gaping entrance. She fired without hesitation at the first of the four-eyed freaks and then at the second and the third. Each body that fell that fell with a thud filled her with a cold satisfaction and she shouted, “Come on, you motherfuckers! Come and get me, you dirty four-eyed sons of bitches!” The world went white.

She woke on her back with her body wracked by pain. Only one eye would open and when she tried to breathe in through her nose, she sniffed in blood. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she tasted more of it there. Her jaw and cheek throbbed and when she did manage to take a breath, she felt her bones grind together and froze in pain. The sky above her mocked her with the beauty of the day and a booted foot slammed into her broken ribs. She screamed and curled protectively around her side. Only when her hands met bare skin did she fully realize that she was naked. She looked up to see a handful of aliens sneering down at her. One bent down and grabbed her by the hair. He used it to drag her to her feet and she ripped her hair from his grasp and threw her head to the right in what she thought she’d remembered hearing was an insult in their culture and spat blood into his eyes. 

Another boot to the side of her knee took her to the ground again and she thought she heard bone crack. He growled out, “Good job, human. Your whole village is dead now because of you.” 

She glared at him and sneered, “Go fuck yourself, freak.” He kicked her in the ribs again and she dropped to her hands and knees. Her broken leg screamed in agony and she fell to her side. Her vision was blurry but she forced her eye to open anyway. She was going to see what happened to her. Her gaze landed on a rock and she glanced up to see them talking amongst themselves. When another kicked her knee, she screamed and threw her arm out as she scrambled away from him. Her hand closed over the stone. 

Another one reached down and grabbed her by the hair again, dragging her up. She tried to keep her weight off of her broken leg and clutched the rock against her thigh as his hand traveled over her bare body. Two of the aliens laughed as she shuddered. The others said something to them and they began to argue while the first one continued to grope her. One flung his hand up in a universal gesture of disgust and walked away. The other two followed him. That left two. She pivoted on her good foot and brought the stone up to bash against the center of his face where she thought his nostrils were. He howled and she brought the rock down again and again until she felt bone crunch and blood sprayed out. 

The second one recovered and lunged for her but she ducked as the first one’s grip on her hair let go and she activated her tactical cloak. The batarian looked around wildly. She only had a few moments before it deactivated. A flash caught her eye and she grinned ferally as she reached for the shard of broken glass. She gritted her teeth and forced herself not to drag her foot as she crept around behind the batarian who was now firing wildly in front of him. The glass cut her palm but she didn’t care. The hot rush of blood over her hand was raw and primal and she wished that she could kick him as he fell. 

The cloak ticked a warning, letting her know that she had only a few seconds left, and she dragged herself painfully to a stand of shrubs and tucked herself into them as the cloak fell. A moment later, more batarians ran over and began shouting and gesturing at the two dead ones. She held her breath as they started to search. She couldn’t stay here. She hadn’t gotten far enough away. They would find her. As slowly as she could, she rotated her head, scanning the area. She wasn’t near the pens but she was close to the ship and that was where the new aliens had come from. That made what she needed to do even more difficult. She had no idea how many of them there were in there and she had to somehow get past them so that she could hide. 

She hoped that the alien had lied. She hoped that her neighbors and friends weren’t really all dead. She couldn’t think about that now, though. If they were, there was nothing more that she could do for them and she’d at least saved them from being enslaved by batarians. If they were, there was still nothing she could do for them. She didn’t even know if she could save herself. She told herself that she could think about Mom and John later. For now, the cloak had recharged and the batarians were looking on the other side of the field, near the woods. She couldn’t get there. She pulled a few long leaves off of the shrub and wrapped them around the cut on her hand. It wouldn’t do to leave a blood trail for them to follow. 

After activating her cloak and grabbing the piece of glass again, she low crawled out of the brush and went to her hands and good knee to scramble as quickly as she could across the open grass to the wheat field behind her. Her tongue was bleeding from the effort to keep her pained whimpers from escaping. She would have to be careful to keep the stalks from moving and giving away her trail but it would hide her from sight if she made it in. 

They still had their backs to her, so she slipped into the wheat and then froze until the stalks stopped moving. She barely dared to breathe as she crept through the wheat inch by excruciating inch. Time lost all meaning as she prayed to a god that she’d stopped believing in around the time that her finger had squeezed on the trigger to take her mother’s life. She moved deeper into the field, calling its layout up in her mind as she did, and didn’t stop until she judged that she was somewhere in the center. Then she collapsed into the dirt and cried as the sun sank over the horizon. An orange glow lit the sky and the smell of burning filled the air. 

The dark helped to hide her but the hint of chill that the wind had held earlier had turned into a full-blown promise and she began to shake. Her stomach growled and she wished for the food she’d stuffed into her pockets earlier. The colony was unsettlingly quiet. She didn’t know if the slavers were still there or not. She hadn’t heard the ship take off, so she supposed that they were. They were probably looking for her. She rolled onto her back and stared up through the wheat to the stars, wishing that she could be up there. Space was the only part of John’s Alliance dreams that she had shared. While John had questioned Alex about training, she’d begged him to tell her about space travel. Those thoughts brought nothing but pain now. John was dead. Alex was probably dead. Her mother was dead. Lizzie was dead. The Johnsons and Salazars and so many others were dead. Men. Women. Children. All gone. The silence confirmed the batarian’s words to her. There would be noises if they were alive. She felt like she was the last person left in the galaxy.


	3. Chapter 3

A rustle in the wheat woke her. She looked around wildly for the source of the sound. The sun was shining and she couldn’t remember falling asleep. She didn’t know what time it was or how long she’d slept, only that it was stupid to have done so. The stalks waved, showing her where the intruder was. Too close. He would find her. She shouldn’t have fallen asleep. She cast about for the bloodstained shard of glass before realizing that it was still clenched in her hand. She rotated it so that the long part was pointing out like a knife and drew herself into a crouch on one foot with her broken leg behind her. She’d have to let him get close enough that she could spring on one foot and catch herself against him. Then she’d slit his throat or stab him or…something.

She heard John’s voice in her ear. _Deep breaths, in, out. That’s it. Focus. Forget everything else. There is only this moment. You are the predator here._ She did as he said and let her fear and anguish and pain fade away until there was only herself and the swaying wheat and the blue sky above. Two meters. One. The stalks parted and she lunged with a feral snarl. The glass flashed as she struck out and then her wrist was caught in a large hand and an arm was around her waist. A deep male voice said, “Easy there, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”

She stiffened and stared at the human to whom the voice belonged. Blue eyes the color of the sky overhead peered out of a broad, chiseled face made up of hard lines and sharp angles accentuated by a nose that had been broken more than once. It was capped by short-cropped dark hair. A bright red line was slashed across his cheek from just below the outer edge of his eye down through his upper lip and blood wept from the wound where she’d cut him. His uniform announced that he was Alliance and, she thought, an officer. They’d come.

“What’s your name, girl?” the man asked.

“Katherine Shepard,” she answered.

“Shepard?” he asked, sounding surprised. “Any relation to Hannah Shepard?”

“She’s…she _was_ …my mother,” she answered in a choked voice as he eased his hold on her wrist. “She’s dead.”

“I was afraid of that,” he said. “I served with your mother on the _Ontario_. I’m Captain Steven Hackett of the Alliance Navy. I command the _SSV Einstein_.”

She relaxed against him and looked away as she asked, “Is there anyone else?”

“No,” he said gently. “You’re the only one.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she said, “There was an Alliance soldier, Ensign Alex Carson, here on Mindoir. He’s…he’s a friend of mine.”

Captain Hackett said, “He’s the one who alerted us to the attack. I’m afraid we were too late. If it’s any consolation, he died protecting his neighbors.”

She nodded and said, “He would.”

Hackett looked at her curiously and said, “Do you know who killed all of those batarians back there?”

“I did,” she answered.

“Huh,” was his reply. “Can you stand on your own, Katherine?”

“Kit,” she corrected. She didn’t think she could bear it if anyone called her Kate after hearing her mother’s final order. Kit would do. “I think so.”

He steadied her as she balanced on her uninjured foot and began to unbutton his jacket. She couldn’t work up the energy to wonder what he was doing and then he’d removed it and wrapped it around her. She clutched it to her chest as her cheeks heated. She had forgotten that she was naked and she’d been pressed right up against him. He lifted her carefully and she bit back a yelp as her ribs scraped and her knee screamed. “We have medigel on the ship,” he told her. “Just hold on for a few more minutes. How did you manage to take down over a dozen batarians by yourself?”

She shifted until she found a position that was a little more comfortable and let her head rest against his shoulder as she explained what had happened. Her voice broke when she told about watching John fall and she fell completely silent after recounting her mother’s words. She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She couldn’t tell him what she’d done. She couldn’t tell anyone what she’d done. She wrapped his jacket more tightly around herself and let its warmth and the scent of cherry pipe tobacco wrap around her.

He tried to shield her from the sight of the pen but she said, “No. Let me see it. I need to see, to remember.”

He gave her a searching glance and then nodded. When he turned, she took in the sight of the area that had been her home. The buildings still smoldered and the bodies of her neighbors lay where they fell. Hackett told her that they had a crew that was going to collect them for burial but she only peripherally registered his words. She was busy memorizing their faces, not as she’d known them but as they were now. She could see no reason why she should be alive while they were not. Wordlessly, she pointed to her brother’s body and Hackett carried her over and lowered her to the ground. She reached out and closed John’s sightless eyes. “I’ll make it count for something,” she vowed to him, to all of them. “I’ll make it matter and I’ll make them pay.”

When Hackett lifted her up again, she requested that he carry her into what was left of the house. He checked to make sure it was safe and then she directed him to the living area. He picked up the instrument case she pointed out and asked, “Is there anything else you want while we’re here?”

“No,” she answered and they left the house.

She glanced at the oversized jacket around her shoulders and then set her eyes resolutely on the ship in the distance. She hadn’t paid attention when John and Alex had talked about the military, but she had paid attention when Mom and Alex had talked about the ships. She’d never seen an Alliance ship close enough to have a comparison on size but the name _Einstein_ told her that he commanded a cruiser. Those were dreadnought size and couldn’t land on most planets. They stayed in orbit and used fighters and shuttles to fight and travel between land and ship. The gunship in front of them was familiar and she thought she recognized it as the new fighter that Alex had been so excited about. “Is that the new A-61 Mantis?” she asked.

He gave her another surprised look and said, “Straight off the assembly line. This is its first run. You like ships?”

She nodded and he said, “Well, I was going to take you back in the shuttle as you could stretch out in the back but I suppose we could take a ride in the Mantis if you think you’re up for it. The fighting is over and someone needs to take it back.”

Her face didn’t light up, exactly, but it did take on an intensity that answered his question for him. He strode toward the gunship and deposited her in it as gently as he could while he informed his squad that he had a survivor. The med bay on the _Einstein_ was already ready and waiting for whatever they found down here. They just hadn’t expected to only find one. That it was the child of his first CO on his first assignment was simply bizarre but she was undoubtedly Hannah Shepard’s daughter. He wondered if even she realized how much like her mother she was.

He’d been following the indication of a heat signature in the wheat field in the hopes that it was a person rather than just an animal and had caught just a glimpse of her before she’d attacked. He hadn’t been expecting it and she’d gotten a good swipe to his face with that damn piece of glass before he’d been able to react. It would probably leave a scar, he thought as he probed it with his fingertips. It was a hell of a lot better way to get one than most of the rest he had. She was a hellcat, that was for sure and, at probably sixteen or seventeen, he would be willing to bet money that she hadn’t had a clue before the attack.

He thought that the image of her would probably remain seared in his brain for the rest of his life. Naked, caked in dirt and blood both human and batarian, with a black eye, broken nose, split lip, broken ribs, and a broken leg, she should have been mentally shattered. The story she’d told had been incredible and would have been unbelievable if he hadn’t known what a hard ass her mother had been. He’d seen the bodies of the batarians and, while they weren’t all clean shots, all but two had been fatal and the second in both of them had told him that she’d managed to refrain from panicking and try again.

He’d hoped that he’d been wrong when he’d identified Hannah Shepard, but the neat hole in the center of her forehead hadn’t been enough to distort her features. She’d killed her mother to keep her from being captured and likely tortured. That required a fortitude that not many adults and, he would have thought before, no teenagers possessed. It had cost her. He could see that in her eyes and wondered what she’d been like before the raid. Had she been studious and serious or happy and carefree? Had the dead teenager in the pen been her boyfriend, a schoolmate, a neighbor, a brother? He wondered if she would ever smile again. There was something dead in her eyes, but it was countered by a fierce determination. He glanced back and saw her watching him as though memorizing everything about the ship and how to fly it. He recalled her words to the boy in the grass and thought that, whatever she’d been before, he had been witness to the birth of a legend.

Hackett saw the first glimpse of something other than pain or fire in her eyes when they broke through the planet’s atmosphere. She seemed to forget everything that had happened, her injuries, even him as she leaned over to gaze out the window with a look of wonder on her face that made her actually look her age. Her hand came up to the glass as if she could reach out and take the stars in her hand. He set the VI to dock with the ship and turned so that he could watch her. “It’s incredible,” she breathed.

She drank in the sight of the _Einstein_ as they approached and peered around the cockpit to watch them dock. When he lifted her out, she thanked him. He carried her to the med bay himself. He could have called for a medical team but that would have taken more time and he found himself strangely reluctant to let her go just yet. She took in everything and made him look at the ship with new eyes as well. She even seemed to be fascinated by the med bay. He felt almost guilty for leaving her there but there were still things to be done.

Over the days that followed, Kit settled in on the _Einstein_ while Hackett tried to figure out what to do with her. He couldn’t keep her on the ship. She was too old to go into foster care and he didn’t want her with strangers or out on the streets. He wanted her in the Alliance and, from the conversations they had, he expected that was what she wanted as well. She was two years too young to enlist but, if he could figure something out, she could sign up on her eighteenth birthday. When he learned that she had been taking college level courses on Mindoir, he thought he’d found the solution. He placed a call to a friend who owed him a favor.

“David,” he said when Commander David Anderson returned his call. “I have a situation.”

“What can I do for you, Steven?” Anderson asked.

“I assume you’ve heard about Mindoir and the survivor from the colonies?” he asked in reply.

“I have. I heard you’ve got her on board the _Einstein_ ,” Anderson said.

Hackett said, “I do and therein lies my problem. This girl has got potential, far too much to be wasted if the Alliance just turns her loose. She has no family and everyone she knows is dead. If I can get her into the college on Arcturus, would you let her stay with you? She doesn’t need actual care. She just needs somewhere to go and someone who can understand what she’s been through.”

Anderson scratched his chin thoughtfully and asked, “Is she really that good?”

“She took out over a dozen batarians by herself with a sniper rifle that was too big for her, killed her own mother to prevent her capture, was captured herself, and killed two more in close quarters with a rock and a piece of glass despite multiple broken bones and escaped. She then spent the night outdoors in the cold with no protection and still managed to give me this with the same piece of glass she’d used to slit one of their throats,” Hackett said, gesturing to the freshly healed scar on his face. “Less than twenty-four hours before, she’d been a simple farm girl and, somehow, she’s still sane.”

“Damn,” Anderson said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Anderson called him back the next day and agreed to take her in. When Hackett presented the idea to Shepard, she protested that she had no money for the classes. He told her that he’d gotten her a scholarship. Hackett’s crew insisted on helping him pay for her tuition. When they docked on Arcturus Station, Hackett introduced her to Anderson and she thanked them both. David promised to keep him apprised of her progress.


	4. Chapter 4

**TO:** Cpt.Anderson@ssvagincourt.xnet  
**FROM:** Radm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 04.10.2176  
**SUBJECT:** Elysium--URGENT  
Captain Anderson  
We’ve received word of suspicious activity in the Skyllian Verge. Comm systems are going dark in a progressive pattern. Target predicted to be Elysium. We suspect batarian raiders. I need you to get there and handle the situation. I am sending word to Lieutenant Shepard now.  
Rear Admiral Hackett

 **TO:** Lt.Shepard@ssvtrafalgar.xnet  
**FROM:** Radm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 04.10.2176  
**SUBJECT:** Elysium  
Lieutenant Shepard,  
We’ve received word of suspicious activity in your area. Comm systems are going dark in a progressive pattern. Target predicted to be Elysium. We suspect batarian raiders. Help is on its way. Can you hold out for a few hours?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Radm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lt.Shepard@ssvtrafalgar.xnet  
**DATE:** 04.10.2176  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Elysium  
I can do anything I have to do, sir.  
How long is a few hours?  
Lt. Shepard

 **TO:** Lt.Shepard@ssvtrafalgar.xnet  
**FROM:** Radm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 04.10.2176  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Elysium  
Eight.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Radm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lt.Shepard@ssvtrafalgar.xnet  
**DATE:** 04.10.2176  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Re: Elysium  
Damn. You can count on me, sir.  
Shepard

___

Shepard closed out her omni-tool and rose from her seat at the bar. She had come to Elysium to celebrate her birthday. Anderson was supposed to be meeting her in the morning for their annual skydiving trip. Anderson had become more than a friend. He’d become a second father to her. He’d worried over her, pushed her, encouraged her, had made sure she was educated and had aided her entry into the military as an ensign. Since then, she’d risen in the ranks by her own merit but they’d remained close. Every year on April 11th, they went to a new place and went skydiving. It was a tradition that had started on her first birthday with him when he’d taken her to Earth the first time.

Hackett was going to try to join them this year. She hadn’t seen him since her commission ceremony and she’d been looking forward to it. She couldn’t say exactly when or why but, over the years, her feelings for him had grown into something she couldn’t truly identify. Maybe she didn’t want to identify it. There was no point. He was an admiral. She was a lieutenant. More than that, he was second in command of the entire Fifth Fleet and a month away from a promotion and full command. She served on the _SSV Trafalgar_ which was, of course, assigned to the Fifth Fleet. They were both career soldiers. There was no point in indulging a stupid crush. Still, she’d been excited at the prospect of seeing him again.

She put all of that out of her mind and strode over to a group of marines who were clearly also on shore leave. They looked irritated at being disturbed but stood and saluted her anyway. She shook her head and said, “No time for formalities. I need you to come with me.” She sincerely hoped they were sober. Once they were out of the bar, she led them toward Illyria’s security headquarters. “We have a situation. I’ve been alerted to an incoming attack on the colony. The only intel I have is that they’re likely batarians but we don’t know how large the force is. They’re disabling comm buoys in the system so we need to assume it’s large. How many of you are there?”

“Eleven, ma’am,” one answered. There were five in the group. 

“Get your buddies. I want every Alliance soldier on this colony ready to go. Do you have weapons or armor?” she asked as she broke into a jog.

“No, ma’am. We left them on the ship,” another answered.

“Shit. All right. Call your friends and come with me,” she said. She strode purposefully into the security headquarters, grateful that she hadn’t thought to remove her uniform. She normally would have changed into civilian clothes for the sake of image, but the bar they’d been at catered to military on shore leave and it wasn’t uncommon to see soldiers drinking there in uniform. When the receptionist at the front looked up and saw them, her eyes widened and she stood. Shepard said, “I need to speak with your executor immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the receptionist answered.

A few minutes later, a burly man in a uniform that told her he sat behind a desk with eyes that told her he hadn’t always done so introduced himself as Executor Erickson and called her into his office. She explained the situation and showed him the message from Hackett. He put in a call to the governor and then nodded and said, “We have a hundred officers on duty and another two hundred off duty that I can call in. You may have full access to our armory. You’re an N7, so you’re better trained than any of my men and probably than I myself am. We’ll follow your lead, Lieutenant. The governor has authorized you to utilize whatever resources you need and is alerting the other major cities.”

As he spoke, he called up a holographic map of the city. It showed not only the locations of streets and buildings but also the city’s defenses. Pirate raids were nothing new here and the colony was prepared, though she wasn’t certain that they were ready for a raid large enough to require Hackett to send in the fleet. Elysium was equipped with mobile planetary defense cannons. The cities were walled and had mounted turrets that could be activated in case of attack. In addition, there was a bunker in the center of each city that could house the majority of the population in case of orbital strikes and most houses had safe rooms in them. The hospital was able to be locked down as well. As far as defensible locations went, she’d certainly seen worse. 

“Spread the word while we still can,” she said. “This is our command center. Activate your planetary defense cannons and evacuate all non-combatants to the bunkers but anyone who can fight needs to do so. I want men on each of these turrets. Get engineers with combat drones on the walls as well. I need a comm specialist in each sector so that we can coordinate information and relay instructions. Alert the hospitals to prepare for casualties and if they have anyone trained as a combat medic to send them to us.” 

“I’ll get it done, Lieutenant,” Erickson said as the receptionist led in another group of soldiers. 

She gestured to the map as she evaluated the marines. “We have twelve sectors and eleven officers. Which one is the weakest?”

“Sector two,” he said immediately. “We had a raid a few months back and are still rebuilding our fortifications.”

She said, “I’m on sector two, then. Each of you take a sector. Erickson, I want your best man on the strongest sector you’ve got. I don’t know how your people are trained so I need it to be someone who can work independently if need be and isn’t going to back down from a fight.” 

“Sergeant Jarvis,” he said. “He used to work for Admiral Grissom. I’ll get him.”

“Is Admiral Grissom here?” she asked. “We could sure use him right about now.”

“No,” he said. “He went to the Academy last week. Isn’t due back for two more.”

“Damn. All right. Get Jarvis. Now, if they manage to breach our defenses, I want fallback locations here, here, and here.”

They continued planning until the receptionist came into the office. “Executor, sir?” she said in a high voice. “We’ve got reports of incoming ships. They look like pirates and slavers.”

“How many?” Shepard asked.

“Hundreds, thousands, I don’t know,” she answered. “The reports are confused. A lot. A lot more than we’ve ever seen before.”

Shepard nodded. “You’ve got your assignments. Go. Defend the colony.”

 **TO:** Radm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lt.Shepard@ssvtrafalgar.xnet  
**DATE:** 04.10.2176  
**SUBJECT:** Elysium  
Admiral,  
Enemy forces inbound. I’ve got a dozen marines and the city’s security forces as well as the colonists who are able to fight. Estimate a thousand with boots on the ground and more incoming. We’ll hold the colony until reinforcements arrive.  
Lt. Shepard

 **TO:** Radm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lt.Shepard@ssvtrafalgar.xnet  
**DATE:** 04.10.2176  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Elysium  
Get it done, Lieutenant. We’re counting on you.  
R. Adm. Hackett  
___

“I need a turret there and there!” Shepard shouted as she ran toward a breach in the barricade. 

“On it, Lieutenant!” shouted the wide-eyed engineer whom she didn’t think had been out of training for more than a month. He was as wet behind the ears as they came and his hands were shaking so hard he fumbled the first turret three times.

“What’s your name, Private?” she asked the marine as she stepped between him and the incoming pirates. Damn, she hated batarians.

“D—D—Davis, ma’am,” he answered in a trembling voice. 

“You’re doing just fine, Davis,” she said, turning to fire on a group of batarians who were trying to rush the break in the wall. “Get that second turret up for me, all right? Don’t worry about these assholes. I’ve got this.”

This was a scene straight out of her nightmares. She had come a long way from the young farmgirl on Mindoir who’d been rescued by a handsome navy captain. She felt nothing now when she squeezed the trigger on her assault rifle—she still hated the damn things but she was accurate and it was fast. She’d learned to disconnect from it and to see the enemy rather than a person. This, however, was different. This was too close to home. This was a colony full of civilians who’d broken when the batarians had come pouring through the walls and all of the soldiers here on leave but herself, Private Davis, and the Alliance doctor currently trying to patch up the injured civilians were dead. This was thousands upon thousands of batarians. They spread like a solid wave as far as she could see. There was no way that she could hold this position with only a scared private for god only knew how many more hours. She couldn’t see a way. 

Once the turrets were activated, she ducked back behind the wall with Davis to think. The planetary defense cannons were down. The wall mounted turrets had run out of ammunition because she had lost her runners. Erickson had gone silent and she didn’t have time to get back to the security HQ. When he’d said that this sector had been damaged, he hadn’t been exaggerating. It had been the obvious place to launch the brunt of their attack and they had done so. The problem was that the officers she’d assigned to lead the other teams had twenty-five trained men and a handful of colonists apiece against hundreds. Once the batarians had gotten over the walls in those areas, they’d gone down quickly. Now, she was at the last fallback location with the hospital on one side and the bunker on the other with hastily erected barricades at either end that would do little to stop an enemy that had already managed to get past the walls. 

“Ma’am?” Davis said. “I can send out some combat drones if you think it would help.”

“Do it,” she said and peered over the barricade. Batarians were swarming down the street toward the breach. There had to be a hundred and more were coming from the sky every minute. She couldn’t hold it alone. Davis activated his omni-tool and a pair of drones appeared and flew down the street. The hospital door opened and the Alliance doctor, an unflappable British-woman with a silver bob, ran out and ducked behind the barricade. 

The doctor said, “Lieutenant, I’ve brought you more medigel, water, and ration bars. When you take care of this wave, I’ve got someone who might be able to help. I’m not sure if you’ll want to use her but right now I don’t think we can afford to overlook any advantage.”

“All right, Doc,” Shepard said. “I’ll let you know when it’s clear. Get back in there.”

The doctor peered over the barrier and then back at Shepard. “I’m a soldier, too, you know. I can fight.”

“I need you in the hospital more than I need you out here. If you go down, I have no one to come after Davis and me if we fall. Get back in there,” Shepard ordered.

When the doctor was away, Shepard dragged herself to her feet once more. She’d been fighting for hours. She didn’t know how many and she couldn’t bring herself to look. If she could tell herself that help would come in a few more minutes, she could keep going and then tell herself again that they would come in a few more minutes. Her shoulder ached from the kick of the rifle and her arms trembled under its weight. It was relatively light but, after firing constantly for hours, her muscles were exhausted and numb and it felt like it was made of stone. She added her rifle to the turrets and watched dispassionately as the bodies continued to pile up. It didn’t matter. There would be more. There were always more. She hadn’t rested for more than a minute since this had begun.

Davis held the canteen up to her lips when she ducked back into cover and she took a long pull through the straw. He ripped open a packet and placed it between her teeth. She kept it there, sucking the nutrigel out of the packet as she stood and fired again. The drones flashed out and were replaced by new ones. She spat the empty packet on the ground. “My kingdom for a rocket launcher,” she muttered as Davis moved to set up another turret on the walls behind them as more came around the back side of the bunker. They were flanked. Fortunately, that group was small and Davis, bless his green little heart, held them off. She was recommending his ass for a medal if they survived this. And a promotion. And a month of shore leave. Somewhere without raiders.

She ducked back down as her weapon began to whine from overheating. “How you holding up, Davis?” she asked.

“I’m all right, ma’am,” he called out over the whir of the turrets beside her. “We’re clear to your six.”

“Good job, soldier. Now get over here and give me a hand. I need something to shore up this barricade.” The weapon cooled and she stood and fired again. 

“I have an idea about that, ma’am,” he said as he slid into place beside her and began to fire his own rifle. She listened as he outlined his idea and said, “Do it. I’ll hold them off.”

So far, none of the batarians had managed to reach the barricade. That would change when they ran out of turrets. That time was coming soon, she noted with a sideways glance to the stack of portables that Davis had brought out. She was doing her best to conserve them but the pirates had gotten smart. She heard a high-pitched whistle and shouted, “Incoming!” as she ducked and covered her head. “Never again,” she muttered as one of the turrets exploded from the rocket, “never again am I leaving my own gear behind.” None of the helmets fit so her head was unprotected but for the shields that had now flickered and died from the blast. She waited for them to recharge before standing up again to fire on the batarian with the launcher. Davis stopped what he was doing and set up a new turret before running back with his head down. 

A few minutes later—at least, she thought it was a few minutes, but time had ceased to exist—he returned and she covered him as he began to throw heavy rolls of concertina wire over the barrier. When he’d placed all of it, he strung a strand between the barricade itself and one of the buildings and then ran back for the portable generator. She continued to fire on the aliens as he hooked the razor wire into the generator and it began to hum. “Got it!” he shouted triumphantly. “They get close to that wire and they’ll be fried!”

“Good!” she praised. “Now do the other side before they come around!”

“Aye aye, ma’am!” he called back and she spared a grin for him. He deserved a really big medal.

“They’re going to call you a hero for this, Davis!” she told him when she heard the hum repeated behind her. “Davis?” No answer. She ducked into cover and looked behind her. Davis was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. She couldn’t see an enemy. That meant there was a sniper. She wished for her Viper as she scanned rooftops and windows. There! Idiot four-eyed freak. He was too close. She lined up the assault rifle like it was a sniper rifle and fired. He fell out the window. She didn’t bother going to Davis. Medigel couldn’t fix a hole in the head.

Another look over the barricade told her that the batarians had figured out the wire and were trying to come up with a plan. She had a minute but only one. “Chakwas!”

The door opened and the doctor crept out before running to her. She shook her head at the sight of Davis on the ground. “What a waste. Kelsea! Come on. It’s safe.”

The door opened again and a teenage girl ran out and crouched beside them. Her hands trembled but there was something in her eyes that reminded Shepard of a girl back on Mindoir who’d killed over a dozen batarians by herself. She nodded at the girl and ripped into another nutrigel packet. Kelsea said, “I know a way to the security headquarters. I can get there without being seen. My dad’s the executor.”

“I can’t leave this position,” Shepard said. 

“I can. Tell me what you need and I’ll go get it,” the girl said boldly.

“Erickson is your dad?” Shepard asked thoughtfully. If the girl had half the backbone of her father, and it looked like she did, then it might be worth a shot. The girl nodded and she said, “All right. I don’t like it, but all right. I need heavy weapons and ammo. Anything you can find. Rocket launcher, grenades, proximity mines, anything that will make a big boom and kill a lot of these guys at once. Can you do that?”

“I can do that, Lieutenant. I know where they’re kept. As long as the guys didn’t empty out the armory, I’ll find something. If nothing else, I can get more guns in case that one overheats. 

“Okay,” Shepard said and popped up to throw a plasma ball into the group that was beginning to turn her way again. It had gotten bigger. If they were really brutal, they’d just start throwing people at the barricades regardless of the wire. All they needed was one good shot. Eventually, they’d get it. She’d seen nothing to make her think they were anything but brutal. The girl turned to go and Shepard asked, “Kelsea? Why are you doing this?”

She looked Shepard directly in the eye and said, “They killed my dad. I want to make them pay.”

“You can’t be sure he’s dead,” Shepard said gently.

“You’re alone,” Kelsea said. “He’s dead. Otherwise, he’d be here.”

Shepard nodded and said, “They killed my mom. And my twin brother, John. We’ll make them pay.” Kelsea grinned and it was like looking in a mirror. Then she was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Shepard fired off another volley as one of the turrets went down. She cursed and hoped she’d been paying enough attention when Davis set them up. She tried to walk in a crouch but her legs had given out and exhaustion made her body feel as if it were made of lead. She crawled instead and heard a clatter behind her. When she looked, Dr. Chakwas was firing Davis’ rifle with a confidence that spoke of experience. The doctor hadn’t spent her entire career in a med bay or a lab. 

The doc looked over at her and said, “Shanxi.” Shepard nodded. It was enough. She let the doctor cover her as she crawled over to the turrets. Her hands fumbled almost as badly as Davis’ had the first time but she eventually got it in place and activated. Its whir was soothing, comforting, and she let her eyes close. A minute. She just needed a minute. She should have slept the night before instead of lying awake fantasizing about Hackett. 

He was so beautiful. She didn’t care that he was two decades older than she was and that his hair was starting to silver at the temples. She thought he was the most wonderful man in all the galaxy. His eyes were so blue and his face was so rugged and masculine. She’d seen him in fatigues a few times and his body was more toned than most men half his age. He was smart and refined and dignified and radiated a kind of power and authority that made people want to respect and follow him. Disappointing Hackett was the worst thing she could imagine. Disappointing Hackett…she groaned and lifted her head. He’d sure as hell be disappointed if she fell asleep on the battlefield and lost when help was on the way and she just had to hold out for a little bit longer.

Chakwas was still fighting and Shepard said, “Shit. How long was I out?”

“Five minutes,” the doctor answered calmly. “I was about to wake you but thought you’d earned the break. They’re holding.”

“I normally wouldn’t ask this,” Shepard said as she rolled to the side and started to crawl back into position, “but have you got any stims? I’m dead on my feet here.”

“In the hospital,” the doctor answered. “Can you hold this position while I go back in?”

“Yeah,” Shepard groaned. “I’ve got this. Go.” She dragged herself up on trembling legs. It took her two tries to lift the rifle and she propped it up on the barricade to hold it steady. A nod and the doctor withdrew. Shepard fired a plasma ball and started shooting again. Her shoulder felt like it had been kicked by an angry krogan. Repeatedly. Or maybe stepped on by a pissed off elcor. The rifle caught as she was trying to duck down and she was too slow. A round caught her in the other shoulder. That felt like she’d been kicked by a krogan. She fumbled for the medigel and applied it. “Come on, Shepard. Just a few more minutes. Anderson’s coming.”

Anderson. The man had become more than a friend or a mentor. She used to call him dad when she got frustrated with his worrying and she hadn’t meant it kindly. Now, however, she meant it. She remembered her father in snapshots and flashes of memory but they had begun to fade even before the raid on Mindoir. Anderson had never tried to take his place but had carved out one of his own along the same vein. She supposed that her feelings for him were similar to someone with a particularly beloved stepfather. He would never replace Adam Shepard but he was as much a father to her as the man who’d borne her. 

She desperately hoped she would live to tell him as a whine warned of another incoming rocket. She ducked and covered and it exploded close enough to her to send a piece of shrapnel flying up into her face where her injured arm hadn’t managed to get high enough to cover it. Her vision went red as blood poured from it. She wiped it away and opened another medigel packet. Her laugh as she applied it bordered on hysterical. Now she and Hackett would match. The wound ran from her forehead through her eyebrow and across her nose to cut in over her other cheek. So much for being a pretty soldier, she thought with a shrug. Maybe Hackett liked scars. Anderson was going to freak.

“I leave you alone for five minutes and come back to find you shot and bleeding from the head,” Chakwas said. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Got sloppy,” Shepard answered. “Stims?”

“Here,” Chakwas said. She felt a pinprick and a moment later her blood began to sing. The exhaustion melted away and her focus returned.

“Thanks, Doc,” she said. “I’m good now.”

“Let me tend that wound. You have a minute,” the doctor insisted. Shepard tilted her head back and let the doctor work. “It’s going to scar but it shouldn’t be too bad. It isn’t disfiguring. Once it heals, you can probably cover it with makeup.”

“I don’t care about a scar,” Shepard said. “Having a pretty corpse isn’t going to mean much. The Alliance should be here soon. I just have to hold out for a little bit longer. Get back to your patients, Doc. I’ll shout if I need you. And thanks.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Don’t forget to drink. The stims should give you about an hour. I can give you one more dose after that and then we’re treading in dangerous territory,” she warned.

“If I need another dose after that, we’re already fucked,” Shepard said. She shook her head to clear it and took a long drink before turning back to the barricade.

The block of time that followed was a blur of plasma balls, gunfire, setting turrets while under fire, and more plasma balls and gunfire. Even with the stims, she could feel herself fading. Her shoulders railed against every movement and tried to lock up on her more than once. Her back felt like a hot knife had been stabbed into it and twisted. The knee that had been broken on Mindoir popped and ached with every movement and threatened to give way. Her face burned. She ignored the pain and continued fighting. Kelsea returned as the sun was setting and she could have kissed the girl. The batarians had split their forces and she’d been fighting amidst crossfire. The girl had brought everything she’d asked for along with solid ration bars, more water, and a packet of electrolytes. 

“You’re my hero,” Shepard said gratefully as she shouldered the launcher. “Now, get back inside.” As soon as the girl had retreated to safety, Shepard stood and fired the rocket launcher into the mass of bodies that had finally reached the wire and decided to brave it. If it hadn’t been for the buildings lining the streets and creating a bottleneck that Davis’ turrets could utilize, she’d have been overrun hours before. She lobbed a cluster grenade into the smaller group at her back and grinned. Now this was a real fight. She had a chance. 

The rockets and grenades ran out before the enemies did. They finally got smart and put someone up in one of the buildings with a rocket launcher. It took out both the generator and her last turret. She fired on the batarian and he went down but that left her with just an assault rifle against a now surging tide of enemies. This was it. She just had to take as many down as she could and hope that the bunker and the lockdown on the hospital held. 

“Chakwas!” she shouted. The door opened behind her and she said, “Lock down the facility. If they get through, defend the civilians at all costs.” 

Shepard fired her final rocket and took a moment to look over her shoulder at the doc to make sure she was understood and that the doctor wasn’t going to try to argue. Dr. Chakwas took in the situation with a glance and snapped to attention and saluted her. “It has been an honor, Lieutenant,” she said.

She quickly returned the salute from her sitting position. “Likewise, Doctor. Good luck. Do me a favor? Tell Anderson I did my best and I’m sorry. And tell Hackett…tell Hackett…thank you, I guess.” It wasn’t enough and never would be.

Chakwas’ face softened and she said, “I understand, Lieutenant. Give them hell.”

“Aye aye, ma’am.”

They came over the barrier in a wave. The wire held them for a few minutes while she fired off enough plasma balls to blister her palm from the heat buildup and pushed her rifle to its limits. It gave a final burst and then the bolt shattered and it wouldn’t fire again. The first aliens were coming over the barrier then, so she used it as a bludgeon instead and fired the pistol she’d clipped onto her hip when she was able to break free from the horde for long enough to get a shot off. Then more surged over and she was back to beating them in the face, arms, back, wherever she could reach. For the first time, she allowed herself to picture her mother and brother lying dead in the dirt on Mindoir and channeled the rage that she’d kept under such tight rein for so long. Every crunch of bone and every splash of blood served to feed the beast and make it stronger until a shot caught her in the hip and she faltered long enough for one of the four-eyed freaks to get her in the temple with the butt of his own rifle. 

The world went gray and there was an ungodly roaring in her ears as she felt herself fall to the ground. She tried to raise the pistol but her body had stopped responding. A boot caught her in the nose but the sensation was overwhelmed by all of the other pains vying for her attention and the rushing roaring booming sounds playing in her ears. She hadn’t realized that dying would be so _loud_. “Screw…you,” she gasped out and tried to make her feet lash out as another kicked her in the side and a third caught her in the temple again. Then there was only darkness.

\---

She woke slowly to the beep of machinery and a voice calling her name. It was a comforting voice and, despite the accent, made her think of her mother. That was wrong, though. Hannah Shepard hadn’t been a soothing woman. She’d been tough as nails, fiercely proud of her children but willing to accept nothing less than their best efforts, short on praise but long on encouragement as long as she felt that they were truly trying. Soft, however, was not something she’d ever associated with her mother. She remembered the way Hannah had guided her through those first painful kills, the way she’d fought to her last breath, and the way she’d ordered her own death by her daughter’s hand rather than submit to a lifetime of torture and slavery. Shepard had often wondered if her mom had been that selfish or that sure of her daughter’s strength and ability to live with what she’d done.

“Lieutenant? Shepard? Breathe. It’s over. Breathe,” the woman said again and Shepard took in a gasping breath that burned her lungs and made her head spin. She groaned. “That’s it,” the woman said and she identified Dr. Chakwas. “Stay calm. We’ve got you. The Alliance is here. The colony is safe.”

Shepard groaned again and forced her eyes to open. She was in the hospital. She blinked until her vision cleared and brought a hand up to her face. “How long was I out?” she asked.

“About nine hours,” Chakwas answered. “I had you sedated for a short time while I worked on your injuries and then I let you sleep but you started holding your breath when you began to wake up.”

“Anderson?” she asked.

“I’m here, child,” his familiar, warm voice said and she looked over to see him leaning forward in the chair beside her bed. “You did good, Shepard.”

“She did better than good,” another familiar and equally welcome voice said from behind him. “What you did was nothing short of outstanding, Lieutenant. You single-handedly saved the colony.”

“I had help,” she said. “I had a lot of help. A lot of good men died helping me hold this colony.”

“And in the end, you stood alone against thousands of batarians and you held the line,” Hackett said. “Dr. Chakwas has already briefed us on your heroic actions.”

“I couldn’t have done it without her and Private Davis,” she insisted. “Kelsea Erickson, Executor Erickson, Sergeant Jarvis, the marines, the security forces, the civilians who stepped up. Private Davis is the hero, sir. He stood by me until the end. You’d have arrived to a dead colony if it hadn’t been for him. He deserves the recognition. Not me.”

“His actions and his sacrifice won’t go unnoticed,” Anderson assured her. 

“Good,” she said and tried to adjust her jaw. It popped loudly and she cursed. 

“Try not to move your face too much,” Dr. Chakwas said. “Your jaw is fractured and so are your cheekbone and your nose. If you do that again, I’ll have to wire your jaw shut and, trust me, you don’t want that.”

“Now you tell me,” she grumbled. “How bad is it, Doc?”

“In addition to the broken bones and laceration on your face, you suffered a gunshot wound to the shoulder, hip, and back. Fortunately, the one in your back didn’t hit your spine.”

“That’s why it felt like I was being stabbed,” she said. “I thought it was just muscle pain from exhaustion.”

“You also sustained fractures to your ribs and your ankle. You’re black and blue from head to toe,” the doctor added.

“No point in having a pretty corpse,” she said blithely. “So, the roaring in my ears there at the end?”

“The _Agincourt_ taking down the enemy ships as we came in. They broke off once they realized that the fleet had arrived,” Anderson said. 

“You sure do know how to make an entrance, Dad,” she said and, this time, there was no sneer to the word. “I thought I was dead.”

“You almost were,” the doctor said. “A few minutes more and you would have. I’ll admit, I was certain I was telling you goodbye for the final time when you sent me away.”

Shepard looked at her and said, “I thought you were, too. Glad it didn’t work out that way. I’ll fight beside you any day, Doc. You’re a hell of a soldier.”

Anderson said, “So does this mean I don’t have to go skydiving?”

“You don’t want to go skydiving?” she asked. “You don’t like it?”

“It terrifies the hell out of me,” he answered.

“Then why do you do it?” she asked.

“Because you smile,” he said. “It’s the only time I see you smile outside of a firefight.”

“I smile!” she insisted. Behind Anderson, Hackett shook his head in refusal. “I do,” she said. “I smile when…I smile. Fine. I’ll work on it. You shouldn’t have to throw yourself out of a perfectly good airplane just for that.”

“Don’t sound so happy about it, Shepard,” Anderson said with a grin.

“Screw you, sir,” she said. With a smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**TO:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvtrafalgar.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.09.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Torfan  
Admiral,  
I heard what’s happening on Torfan. The Theshaca raids are over. I am formally requesting a transfer to Major Kyle’s command.  
Lt. Cdr. Shepard

 **TO:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvtrafalgar.xnet  
**FROM:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.09.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Torfan  
Lieutenant Commander,  
Are you sure that’s wise?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvtrafalgar.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.09.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Torfan  
Yes, sir.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**FROM:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.09.2178  
**SUBJECT:** New assignment  
Don’t make me regret this, Shepard.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.09.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: New assignment  
I won’t let you down, sir.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**FROM:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.09.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: New assignment  
You never do.  
Hackett  
___

“Stand down! All units, stand down!” 

The major’s order made Shepard look over at him incredulously. _Weak_ , she thought derisively. The man was weak. He thought he was doing the right thing in calling his troops back. He wasn’t. He hadn’t been on Mindoir. He hadn’t been on Elysium. He hadn’t shot his own mother in the head to keep her out of the filthy hands of these slaving bastards. 

Over the years, Shepard had come to understand why Hannah Shepard had ordered her to continue firing on the batarians even when one of the enemy’s lives cost two of her neighbors’. She hadn’t known then, either. She hadn’t realized that two for one was a small price to pay. The batarians wouldn’t stop at Mindoir. They wouldn’t stop at Elysium. They wouldn’t ever stop. They would just keep raiding and kidnapping and murdering and enslaving. It was their culture and, they felt, their right. When they weren’t enslaving or killing directly, they used drugs like red sand to do it indirectly. There was no negotiating for peace with these monsters. Even their own people weren’t free. The batarian Hegemony reminded her of the nation of North Korea that she had learned about in her Earth history courses. If allowed to survive and to continue, these batarians would kill or capture far more humans than would be lost here today or than were lost back on Mindoir or even Elysium. They had to be stopped.

“What the hell are you doing, Major?” she demanded.

Major Kyle turned to look at her with too-bright, too-wide eyes and said in a high-pitched voice, “Too many are dead. We can’t do this. They’re too well-fortified. I’m not going to let them kill any more of my men.”

She stepped forward and gestured toward him. “Look, I know this seems difficult, but we can’t give up. We have to stop them.”

“Look, Commander! Look! Those are my men!” he screamed and spittle flew into her face. She ignored it as she ignored the mining carts filled with the bodies of Alliance soldiers rather than whatever had once been mined here that were trundling out of the deep underground facility. Kyle, however, did not ignore them. He sank to the ground and buried his hands in his short hair as he began to rock violently back and forth. “They’re dead. They’re dead. They’re dead.”

Shepard rubbed her temples in frustration and said, “Yes, sir. They’re dead. What the hell good does it do them if we tuck tail and run now?” When he ignored her and continued to rock, she pulled out her omni-tool and recorded a vid.

 **TO:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.15.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Major Kyle  
Admiral,  
Sir, we have suffered heavy losses and it is my opinion that Major Kyle is no longer fit to lead this mission. Requesting permission to assume command.  
Lt. Cdr. Shepard

 

 **TO:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**FROM:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.15.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Major Kyle  
Request granted.  
Hackett

“Major Kyle,” she said. “You are hereby relieved of duty by order of Rear Admiral Hackett.” He didn’t look up or seem to hear her. She sighed and strode through the command center. “Form up!” she ordered. A few moments later, the remainder of her new contingent stood at attention in front of her. “At ease,” she said and began to walk in front of them.

“Major Kyle has been relieved of duty and I have been placed in command in his stead. Our mission is to take this base by any means necessary. It won’t be easy. The batarians have dug in deep and the base is heavily fortified. We’ve lost a lot of good men today and I won’t lie to you and promise that we won’t lose more. We will. We can’t focus on that. 

“I have personally seen what these people are capable of when left unchecked. I have seen them rip a baby from her mother’s arms and kill her. I have seen them murder in cold blood. I have seen them cart innocent civilians off to a life of slavery. They mock the very tenets of freedom, justice, and equality upon which humanity has stood for centuries. 

“They think that they can come to our colonies, our homes, and take our families, kill our children, rape our friends and mothers and sisters and daughters. They are wrong. They will not prevail. We are Alliance soldiers and we will not run. We will not bow. We will not break. We will show them that humans are not their slaves.” She gestured behind her to the mouth of the mines. “They think that sending out our dead will break us. They think we’re weak. We are going to show them just how wrong they are!”

As rallying speeches went, she’d heard better but it served to put fire in the eyes of the marines standing before her and she went on to outline the plan that had been taking shape in her mind since the first cart appeared. They looked uneasy, but since no one else had a better idea, they agreed to try. She helped them empty several of the carts and lay out the dead in the neat rows that were the best they could do at the moment. There would be time for ceremony later. Three carts were left full and sent back into the mines. The ones that followed were filled with soldiers who piled in until they appeared roughly similar to the ones before. 

The batarians had very specific rituals they followed with their dead. They wouldn’t expect the humans to send the bodies of their fallen comrades back in. She honestly didn’t know if they had returned the soldiers out of some cultural respect for the dead or if it had truly been an attempt to break them. She didn’t care. What mattered was that they would be confused, and in that confusion, a small contingent would get in and create a distraction that would allow the rest to come through without being mowed down like the ones before. It wasn’t a giant wooden horse, but it would do.

The ploy worked. The forward infiltration team fell in its entirety, but they bought time for the remainder of the contingent, led by Shepard herself, to make their way into the mines. The fight was intense and by the time it was over, only a quarter of her unit remained and the majority of those were badly injured. She ordered the medics to treat the wounded while the rest collected the dead. Then she turned to the surviving batarians kneeling in a corner with their hands on the backs of their heads. She walked up to the one she thought was their leader. He looked up at her and the sight of his bright red face with its black and yellow stripes took her back in time. She drew her pistol. “We surrendered!” he protested.

Shepard cocked her head deliberately to the right and said, “Tell me, what do you do to human prisoners that surrender?”

“Our slaves are cared for,” he growled but his tone was defeated.

“You call control chips implanted in people’s brains being cared for?” she snarled. “You call killing helpless babies being cared for? Lie to yourself all you want, but I’ve seen what you do. The only thing you and your people are good for is a bullet.” She leaned down and said menacingly, “I saw you on Mindoir. You killed my brother. You hit my mother.” 

“That was you?” he asked as his eyes widened and his shoulders slumped. “You were the shooter?”

“This is for John and Hannah Shepard, you son of a bitch.” With that, she placed her pistol in the center of his four eyes and pulled the trigger. One of the marines ran to her and tried to stop her. She looked at him coldly and said, “Stand down, soldier. That’s an order.” He cast a helpless look between her and the batarians but stepped back obediently. She shot the remaining aliens and said, “Leave the bodies to rot.”

___

 **TO:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**FROM:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.16.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Your actions on Torfan  
I understand that you chose to execute five unarmed prisoners. Would you care to explain that decision to me?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.16.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Your actions on Torfan  
Admiral,  
There is nothing I can say to defend my actions. I will accept whatever consequences you deem appropriate, sir.  
Lieutenant Commander Shepard

 **TO:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**FROM:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.16.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Your actions on Torfan  
Cut the formality. What the hell happened down there, Shepard?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.18.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Re: Your actions on Torfan  
They were on Mindoir. The leader killed my brother.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**FROM:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.18.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Re: Your actions on Torfan  
I see. Return to Arcturus Station. You are relieved of duty pending a full psychological evaluation.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.18.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Psych Eval  
With all due respect, sir, I don’t need a goddamn shrink.  
I’m on my way.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**FROM:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.18.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Psych Eval  
It isn’t a punishment, Shepard. I’m trying to protect you. Major Kyle has been making noise with the brass and your squad has spread the word. You’re being referred to as the Butcher of Torfan.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.19.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Butcher  
Maybe I am.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**FROM:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.19.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Butcher  
Bullshit.  
On a related note, are you certain you don’t have some Spartan in you?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Vadm.Hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** Lcdr.Shepard@ssvhongkong.xnet  
**DATE:** 09.19.2178  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Butcher  
I’m no Odysseus, either, sir.  
Shepard


	7. Chapter 7

**TO:** Cdr.Shepard@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.05.2183  
**SUBJECT:** New Assignment  
Commander,  
Report to docking bay G5 at 0600 tomorrow morning. Congratulations. You’re the new XO of the _SSV Normandy_. You are officially under the command of Captain Anderson. I trust that you won’t flaunt your personal relationship with him. This isn’t a matter of nepotism or playing favorites. You are the best candidate for the position.  
Adm. Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.05.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: New Assignment  
Aye aye, sir.  
You make it sound like Anderson and I are dating. That is disturbing.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.05.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Anderson  
Rest assured, that was not my intention. I am well aware of the age difference.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.05.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Anderson  
It has nothing to do with age and everything to do with the fact that he practically raised me. Besides, I like a little snow on the mountaintop.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.05.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Snow on the mountaintop?  
Really, Shepard?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.05.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Snow on the mountaintop?  
Oh, shit. I hit send. Forget I sent that. Please.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.05.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Snow on the mountaintop?  
Are you drunk?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.05.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Re: Snow on the mountaintop?  
Tipsy. Just tipsy.  
Okay, maybe that last shot was a bad idea. Blame Joker.  
I’ll be ready for duty in the morning. Not so sure about our pilot.  
You do have really pretty eyes. Glacier blue. I’m sorry I scarred your face.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.05.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Scars  
I like the scar.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.05.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Scars  
I am deactivating my omni-tool now. If I don’t show in the morning, check the morgue. Cause of death will be listed as terminal humiliation.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.06.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Reporting in  
Admiral,  
I have reported in to the _Normandy_. I wasn’t informed that there would be a Spectre on board for this shakedown run.  
Additionally, I would like to formally apologize for my behavior last night. It was insubordinate and inappropriate. It won’t happen again, sir.  
Commander Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.06.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Reporting in  
Thank you, Commander.  
Admiral Hackett

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.06.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Conversations  
Don’t worry about it, Shepard. It was…enlightening and, I will admit, flattering. How’s your head?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.06.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Conversations  
My head is fine. I might be able to look you in the eye again in a year or two.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.06.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Conversations  
Pretty, hmm?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.06.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Don’t you dare  
I’m groaning. You can’t hear it, but I’m groaning. I will do anything if you never mention that again.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.06.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Don’t you dare  
That’s a pretty bold statement, Shepard.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.06.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Don’t you dare  
Desperate, sir. Desperate. Is mortification fatal? It has the same Latin root. It’s probably fatal. Don’t put lilies on my grave. They stink.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.07.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Re: Don’t you dare  
I think you’ll survive it. You’re made of tougher stuff than that. Remind me, what color did you say they were, exactly?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.07.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Cruel and unusual punishment  
I think this qualifies, sir.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.07.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Cruel and unusual punishment  
Answer the question, Shepard.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.07.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Cruel and unusual punishment  
Glacier blue, sir.  
I think Operator Kryik and I are the same color now. Speaking of which, he keeps following me around the ship. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, sir?  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.07.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Deflection?  
I’m disappointed, Shepard.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.08.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Deflection?  
It was a legitimate question, sir. I can’t figure out if it’s professional curiosity or a turian attempt at flirtation but I’ve bumped into him twice already this morning.  
Also, I hate it when you say that.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.08.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Deflection?  
You hate it when I say what?  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.08.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Avoidance?  
You aren’t answering my questions. That means it’s professional. What the hell is a Spectre doing on a shakedown run?  
Disappointing you. I hate disappointing you. Even if it is a joke.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.08.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Avoidance?  
You’re too smart for your own good. It’s classified. You’ll find out soon enough.  
I didn’t realize that my opinion meant that much to you. You have never truly disappointed me, Shepard.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.09.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Avoidance?  
Your opinion means…a lot. Thank you, sir.  
Shepard


	8. Chapter 8

"I believe your people describe that expression as the cat eating the sparrow," a flanged voice said from behind her as Shepard closed her omni-tool. She suppressed a sigh as she turned to face the turian who'd been shadowing her from the moment she'd stepped onto the ship. When she went to mess, he was there. When she went to give her reports to Anderson, he was there. When she went to the bridge to speak with Joker or monitor their relay jumps, he was there. She was just waiting for him to hand her the soap in the showers. If she was honest, she could admit that the idea of the latter wasn't entirely unappealing. Her feelings for Hackett hadn't waned in the intervening years but she'd long since recognized, despite her ill-advised drunken flirting, that nothing would ever come of it and she had needs, too, damn it. Nihlus could be an interesting diversion and their tour was scheduled to last for six months.

"It's canary, Spectre," she corrected.

"Agent," he said. "Or simply Nihlus. Agent is generic. Spectre is not and tends to draw attention whether you want it or not."

"I'll remember that, sir," she said.

"None of that, either," he said. "Spectres don't have ranks. A friend of yours?" he asked, nodding to her omni-tool.

"Not exactly," she hedged. She crossed her arms over her chest and rocked back onto her heel. "So, _Agent_ , what's a Spectre doing on a shakedown run?"

"The _Normandy_ is a joint human-turian project," he said mildly. "The Hierarchy wished to have someone on board to witness her maiden voyage."

"Did they also ask you to watch me or do you follow me around because of my winning personality and devastating good looks?" she asked.

He laughed and said, "Perhaps I simply find you intriguing. Is that so hard to believe?"

She snorted and said, "Riiight. You must be very bored here."

"Incredibly," he said with what she thought was a smile. 

"I don't suppose this is the kind of action you're accustomed to," she said. "I'll make you a deal. I'll pretend to buy your story and you tell me something true. I'm sure you've seen some interesting things."

"That sounds fair enough," he said, not even bothering to deny her implied accusation. "Why don't I tell you about the time I faced down an asari justicar? She got the upper hand, so you're more likely to believe that one."

"All right," she said and followed him into the mess hall.

\---

Over the days that followed, Shepard began to anticipate her constant run-ins with Nihlus. He could almost always be convinced to tell her a story about his experiences and he'd lived a fascinating life. He coaxed from her the details on Elysium and Torfan and she found herself telling him things that weren't in the reports, like the way she'd seen herself in the girl Kelsea or how it had felt to take down her brother's killer. He listened well and when she noted that he didn't seem as judgmental as some might, he told her that he'd trained under Saren Arterius and nothing she told him could compare to some of the things he'd seen from his mentor. She couldn't tell if he approved of the other turian's actions or not. She enjoyed talking with him but found it odd that he accompanied her on a series of small missions that Hackett provided for them. When she asked why a Spectre was helping out on simple recon or snatch-and-grab assignments, he claimed that he got restless sitting around while others were getting to fight. She didn't believe that, either, but let him keep his secrets. 

She was finishing a report to Hackett when Nihlus sat down beside her in the mess. His omni-tool was activated and he appeared to be playing a game. She raised an eyebrow at him as he grumbled something her translator didn't catch. "Problems?" she asked in amusement.

"The VI in this game has learned my strategies," he said. "All of them."

"You can't possibly have that much time on your hands," she said with a grin.

"It's an old game," he muttered defensively.

"What is it?" she asked, peering over his shoulder. "Relay Defense? Really, Nihlus? That's almost as bad as Galaxy of Fantasy."

"What's wrong with Galaxy of Fantasy?" he asked. "Eleven billion people can't be wrong."

"Sure they can," she said with a laugh. "Have you ever actually met any people? They're wrong all the time."

"Have you ever played it?" he asked.

"Some people don't have hours and hours of time to sit around playing games. Some of us have to work," she said.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're incorrigible, Commander?" he asked and closed his omni-tool with a huff.

"Only you. You must bring it out in me." He looked so comically frustrated that she rolled her eyes and said, "Fine. Beat me."

"That's a broad statement," he noted.

"At your silly game," she clarified. "If you beat me, I'll stop teasing you about it." Relay Defense was an arcade-style game wherein enemy ships spawned from a mass relay to attack the player's controlled planet. In multiplayer mode, opponents would set up the attack for the other while defending their own space. Shepard had held Elysium against ten thousand batarians. How difficult could it be to do it in a game, she wondered.

"I do like a challenge," he said with a toothy grin. 

It turned out to be very difficult indeed. He had spent far more time studying her than she had him. He anticipated her moves and countermoves with surprising ease. Just when she thought she had him on the run, he countered her and seized her planet. She cursed and suggested best out of three. Hours later, she finally won on their eleventh game. She crowed as his planet fell. "Yes! Eat it, Kryik!"

"Eat what?" he asked, looking at her with amusement.

"It's just a saying," she said. "About damn time I got you."

"Why, Shepard," he said with feigned innocence, "I had no idea you wanted me. All you had to do was ask."

She rolled her eyes and bumped his shoulder with her own. If she'd thought he was serious, she probably would but, while they'd gotten friendly over the past weeks, she'd come to see him as a bit of an affectionate tease. They'd taken shore leave on Ilium the week before and she'd seen the attention he'd garnered from both asari and the few humans there. He didn't seem to notice but it was clear that he had no shortage of opportunity even without advertising his Spectre status. He'd only ever been friendly with her and his occasional flirtations always had an undertone of humor to them. It was slightly disappointing but she still enjoyed interacting with him. She still hadn't figured out why he was really here but had decided that she'd find out eventually and had stopped worrying about it. 

The next day, they raided a Cerberus facility. The experiments they discovered made her stomach churn. She looked over to Nihlus who said, "It's your call, Commander." 

They'd been instructed to investigate the facility. However, Cerberus was listed as a terrorist organization for a reason and no one would protest the destruction of one of their cells. She nodded and they proceeded through the facility, taking down the sadistic bastards where they found them. When Lieutenant Alenko protested her killing of an unarmed scientist, she simply looked at him and said, "Some atrocities are too great to warrant a jail cell. There are _children_ here, Kaidan. He helped torment them."

"Aye aye, ma'am," the lieutenant said reluctantly. 

"They aren't human children," Nihlus pointed out.

"You think that matters?" she asked. "I don't care what race they are. They're innocent. They deserved to be protected. This is wrong."

He nodded and they continued on. In the final lab, they found a single child still alive. Nihlus put away his weapon and knelt before it, humming quietly. The turian child stretched its arms out to him and he picked it up without hesitation. Shepard recognized her name mixed in with the purrs and growls and other predatory sounds that she eventually realized was speech. He was talking to the child in a language her translator didn't recognize. The child seemed to understand it, though. He switched back to something recognizable when he looked at Shepard and said, "Her name is Tyra. She's from a mercenary colony. She was captured by the furry people in white suits."

"Your mercenaries have colonies?" she asked. She hadn't realized there were that many turian mercs nor that they had any sense of community. 

"Yes," he said tersely. 

"Where can she go?" she asked. "She doesn't have to go back, does she? She deserves a chance to be something more."

"Do you think a mercenary cannot care about their child?" he asked. His face shuttered and she thought she'd said something wrong.

"I think a parent who cares about their child would want something better for her than a life of crime," she answered carefully. "That language you spoke. Is that a different one from what you normally speak?"

"No," he said. "It's more of a...regional dialect."

"Oh. Ohh. Well," she said awkwardly. "Give me a moment to get my boot out of my mouth and we'll get back to the _Normandy_." Alenko shifted and the child hissed at him and drew closer to Nihlus. The lieutenant backed away. "Take point," she told him. "Have a barrier ready to shield the girl."

She fell back to guard their exit and the turian child turned in Nihlus' arms to watch her over his shoulder. She said something to Nihlus who replied back. Shepard noted that the child didn't seem the least bit concerned with the pistol he carried or the rifle in her hands. She occasionally glanced warily at Kaidan but looked openly at Shepard. When they reached the Mako, Nihlus took the jump seat with the girl on his lap while Kaidan manned the guns and Shepard drove them to the extraction point. The girl pointed at her and said something to Nihlus that sounded like her name. A moment later, Shepard's lap was full of wriggling, angular, bony turian child. The Mako weaved slightly as Shepard adjusted around her and the girl settled in to her lap. Shepard looked curiously at Nihlus, who said, "None of the humans she saw were female. She isn't afraid of you and you were the one with the biggest gun. To her, that means you saved her. Do you want me to take her back?"

"No," she said as the child curled up and laid her angular head on Shepard's shoulder. "I like kids. I don't really know what to do with them and I'd probably make a terrible mother but I like them. They haven't had the chance to become screwed up yet. They're blank slates. No child should have their innocence ripped away like this."

"That sounds like experience talking," he said.

"I was sixteen when the batarians came to Mindoir," she said. "I was an adult by your standards and almost there by our own but I was naive. My biggest concern that day was whether to go to the harvest festival with a boy or by myself and whether I'd ever get to see a real spaceship up close. Now I'm the XO of the best ship in the Alliance. That doesn't mean other kids should have to go through what I did. Innocence is special and it's lost too quickly without something like this happening to her."

The child made a whimpering sound and Nihlus took Shepard's free hand and placed it on the small spikes on the girl's head. She stroked the girl's head instinctively and she stilled. He said, "Touching the top of the fringe like that is how her mother would comfort her. Just don't try that on an adult without permission."

"My xeno-sensitivity instructor said something about that being a personal area," she told him.

He laughed and said, "It's a little more than that. I'd say it would be the equivalent of me groping or kissing you without permission depending on where you touch."

"Like human hair," she said. "It can be comforting or intimate depending on who and how it's handled. There are exceptions for cutting or styling it where it's impersonal but, for the most part, it's something reserved for family, friends, or lovers."

"I guess it is a bit similar," he said. 

Shepard looked down at the girl and asked, "Would it be inaccurate to assume that you and she share a similar background?" She'd never asked about his personal history before but he knew most of hers so it didn't seem like a topic that was off-limits.

He glanced around to ensure that Kaidan was still standing up on the guns and out of earshot before saying, "That would be an accurate assumption. I was barefaced until I joined the military at sixteen. My mother forced me into it. She said that she wanted something better for me. I'm afraid I wasn't a very good soldier. Rules and regulations aren't that important to mercenaries and the system of rank is fluid at best. I was older than the group that I trained with as well, so that only added to my status as an outsider. I found my niche when Saren decided to make me a Spectre."

"What's he like?" she asked. She'd heard rumors about the notorious Spectre but had never met anyone who actually knew him.

He considered for a moment before saying, "Brilliant. Ruthless. Cunning. Another outcast but he embraces it. He's difficult to please. He's quick to criticize while words such as, 'adequate' and 'acceptable' are high praise. He keeps to himself and likes it that way. He hates humans as much as his reputation suggests. I would advise that you give him a wide berth."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, "but I doubt I'd ever meet him anyway. Spectres aren't exactly crawling out of the woodwork, you know."

He made a sound she couldn't interpret and said, "Remember it anyway."

\--- 

In addition to his penchant for strategy games, she discovered that Nihlus was a fan of terrible vids. He dragged her into his cabin one night and made her sit through a horror film called _Talons_ that was little more than an excuse for humans to be shown getting their throats ripped out. She retaliated by making him watch _Ruck Humpers_ , a krogan war comedy. The following night, it was _We Meet Again, Doctor Fear_. The salarians were even less skilled at humor than the krogan. She responded with _Night Winds_ , an asari romantic horror. He loved it. She thought her eyes were going to start bleeding before it was halfway through. He gave her an incredulous look when she suggested that the vid be added to the torture repertoire for N training. She jokingly began reciting her name, rank, and serial number and he told her that masochism didn't count as torture and he refused to pity her when she was the one who'd chosen it. When she threw a popcorn kernel at him, he caught it in his mouth and grinned at her before throwing an arm casually around her shoulders. When he suggested _Check and Mate_ , she asked why he didn't go all the way and just put on the latest _Asari Confessions_ vid. He said she was prettier than an asari. She called him a liar. He settled for _Starless_ , a gothic horror film, and they spent the evening comparing notes on how they would have survived.

When the crew found out that they were watching vids, it was suggested that they hold a movie night in the cargo bay. Thus far, their shakedown run had been relatively uneventful and the crew was getting bored. They wanted to be out running real missions and were still suspicious of the Spectre on board. A crew-wide activity that included Nihlus could help ease tensions, so Shepard got permission from Anderson. They set up a vid screen on the bulkhead and arranged the crates to provide seating. While they were waiting for the others to come down, they set up a game of relay defense. The crates were just tall enough that sitting on them was uncomfortable for her, so she took a seat on the floor and used the crate and his leg as a prop. She wasn't worried about him looking at her screen. He would play dirty but he wouldn't cheat like that. It would be cheap. Her position earned her a look from Kaidan but most of the crew had grown accustomed to her easy camaraderie with the turian and didn't seem to see anything out of place. 

She stayed where she was when the vid started. Jenkins had chosen _Binder_ , a horror movie with a mystery aspect. She'd seen it before and already knew the identity of the killer but the others hadn't so she settled in to watch it again. Nihlus' hand brushed over the back of her neck and she thought at first that it was accidental until he did it again. She leaned into his leg and threw a piece of popcorn up at him. He caught it and she felt his talons dance lightly over the skin just under her collar. She didn't know what to think about the contact so she tried to ignore it. If he wanted her, he'd have to make a more obvious move than that and this wasn't the place to do so. He apparently disagreed, however, because she soon felt his finger trail up the back of her neck. When she glanced up at him, he gave her an innocent grin and nudge her with his spur. "Pay attention," he whispered. She cocked a brow at him and surreptitiously brought her hand up to the sensitive skin on the back of his spur. The material of his pants was thick but he clearly felt her because his muscle tensed and he scraped his talon lightly but deliberately over her spine. The restraint and risk of getting caught heightened the excitement of their teasing and she was wishing for the end of the vid long before it came. By the time everyone had cleared the cargo hold, leaving the two of them alone, she felt like her skin had been electrified.

She was walking toward the elevator when he said, "You know, turian ships don't have the same restrictions yours do."

"Oh?" she asked, pausing to look at him.

He came toward her and traced the line of her cheek with his knuckle before saying, "We don't have any, in fact. It's not uncommon for two soldiers who work and fight in proximity to find ways of relieving stress together."

"Stress relief?" she asked. "Is that what you call it?"

"Have I offended you?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I'm interested. I just didn't think you were."

"I told you all you had to do was ask," he said.

"And how was I supposed to separate that one moment of seriousness from all the rest?" she asked. 

"I was always serious," he said. 

"You wouldn't prefer an asari?" she asked. "You have no shortage of opportunities for companionship if you just want stress release. Why me?"

He said, "We work well together. We respect each other. I enjoy your company. And I do find you incredibly attractive. I like you, Shepard. My reputation may present me as a...what's the human term? A playboy? But, contrary to popular belief, I do prefer to spend my time with people I actually enjoy being around outside of the bedroom. Relationships aren't generally practical as a Spectre given the uncertainty of my lifestyle and how often I'm called away but that doesn't mean that I seek out one-time encounters when I have other options."

"Okay," she said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will be getting back to Hackett/FemShep in a few more chapters.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Her nerves began to get to her once she realized they were actually planning to do this and by the time they reached his quarters, she was admittedly anxious. She'd never been with a turian before and realized that she had no idea what she was doing. Would it even work? Did they have the same parts? She wasn't concerned about the differences in their species beyond the practical applications but she'd never even seen a naked turian. She didn't know where to touch or how or even if he could truly feel her in most places. She wasn't sure how, exactly, foreplay was supposed to work for either of them. She had no desire to have those talons anywhere near her sensitive areas and his row of razor sharp teeth seemed to preclude any type of kissing or oral contact. Shepard was accustomed to taking the lead with her lovers but that wasn't exactly practical when she didn't have the first clue how to please him or if he could do the same for her. She finally looked at him and asked, "Have you ever been with a human before?"

"One," he said, "and asari are very similar. I know what I'm doing, Shepard."

"Good," she said on a sigh as she raked her hand through her hair. "I'm glad one of us does because I have no idea. Humans, sure, but I've never been with a turian."

"Ah," he said. "I wondered what was wrong. I assure you, it works and works well. However, given that you have never done this with one of my kind before, I do want to ensure that you recognize that it is a turian you're getting into bed with and not a human. If you want soft and gentle, you should go to Alenko. Turians are rough edges, teeth, and talons. I can retract the latter but there are certain involuntary reflexes that may bring them into play. If you object to that, I can always wear gloves. I won't bite to mark as that is a sign of possession but we do tend to utilize our teeth in a similar manner to humans. My plates can chafe in the wrong position but an application of lotion and medigel is typically sufficient to deal with it."

"I won't break," she said, "and I don't want soft."

"Good," he said and she shivered at the way his tone dropped. 

His demeanor changed in an instant. Gone was the easygoing turian she was accustomed to seeing on the ship. In its place was the predator whom she'd fought beside. The heat in his eyes transformed it from lethal to merely dangerous. He stalked toward her with feline grace and drew her to him. She wasn't expecting him to kiss her and was surprised when he did. It wasn't like kissing a human male. His lips were stiffer, though they had give, and flatter as well. The shape of them was strange but not unpleasant. He hadn't been lying when he said he knew what he was doing. She didn't know if all turians kissed but this one certainly had done it before. He knew just how much pressure to use and how to angle her head. His tongue was narrower and rougher than what she was accustomed to but when it danced with hers, she decided that different could definitely be good. His hands glided up her arms to cup her shoulders before trailing down her back and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He purred deep in his throat when she ran her fingers alongside the plates that lined his spinal column and groaned and pulled her closer when they brushed against the underside of his fringe. She felt the rumble in his hard chest and did it again, deliberately this time. He brought his hand up to tangle in her hair and splayed the other across her lower back. 

She'd been curious about him for some time now and took the opportunity to explore him. The unplated skin along his neck felt like suede and the plates themselves had more give than she'd imagined. They were slightly rough but not the sandpaper quality that she'd expected. It was more like hardened leather than anything else she could think of as a comparison. His collarbone was prominent and continued around his back and she found that running her nails along it drew a pleased rumble from him. She discovered the hidden toggles in his tunic and unclasped them as her hands trailed down his chest. When he shrugged out of the garment, she stepped back to look at him. The ornate tattoos that covered his face continued over the plated areas of his chest and torso, giving him an almost tribal look. She traced them with her fingers and asked, "Can you feel that?"

"Yes," he said. "Not as much as this, though." He guided her fingers to the softer skin between the plates and made a contented sound. It changed to a hissing intake of breath when she reached his waist and she saw his abdominal muscles contract. His hands tightened on her elbows and she took his blissful expression to mean that she had found a particularly sensitive spot. When her hand swept over the arching line of his hip, he growled and lifted her up to carry her to the bed. Her clothing disappeared under his hands and he pushed her back while running them along her body. They were rough and there weren't enough fingers but the differences were unimportant when he sheathed a talon and ran his finger over her. He followed its path with his long, rough tongue and she arched off of the bed.

"Oh, holy mother of God," she gasped. He chuckled and his mandibles brushed the inside of her thighs as he licked her again. His tongue danced over her entrance and then pushed inside and curled against her. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before and she found herself struggling to maintain her control. When she looked down at him, his bright green eyes bored into hers. When her nails scraped lightly over the underside of his fringe, she felt his purr inside and groaned loudly. She wasn't going to be able to hold out for long if he continued and he seemed determined to do just that. His hands stroked up her thighs and over her hips to her waist. He was particularly interested in that area of her body and, while it wasn't an area most men paid a large amount of attention to, seeing his obvious appreciation of her was heady. His tongue curled inside of her again and it pushed her over the edge. She called out his name and he had to pull back to keep her from scraping herself against his teeth as her body bowed.

He moved up her body like a big cat stalking its prey and flipped her onto her belly. "What about you?" she asked breathlessly. 

"Don't worry, Shepard," he purred in her ear. "This is what I want. You, on your knees, submitting to my will."

"Who says I'm submitting?" she challenged over her shoulder.

"Do you really think you're in control here?" he asked in an amused tone. "I'm larger than you, stronger, more experienced, and higher ranked."

"I thought Spectres didn't have rank," she tossed back.

"We don't," he said in a low voice that made her insides burn, "but I can do whatever I want to you while you cannot. I am above the law while you are still bound by it. Therefore, I outrank you. We can always fight for it if you'd like." He sounded entirely too sure of himself and she considered throwing him back off of the bed but when his teeth closed lightly over the back of her neck, she moaned and pushed back into him instead. "That's what I thought," he said and ran his tongue over the scratches left by his teeth. His arm came around her waist and he pulled her back. She felt him slide against her and gripped his hand as uncertainty overtook her once more. His cock was thick and heavy, flared at the tip, and covered in what felt like ridges. If he weren't so large, she would be eager to feel him inside of her but his size made her pause. He nuzzled the back of her shoulder and said, "It will work, I promise you. Humans are very...flexible."

He'd said he wasn't gentle but she didn't know how else to describe the easy way he entered her. He pushed in slowly and paused, giving her body time to adjust, before sliding deeper. By the time he'd hilted himself inside of her, she felt more filled than she ever had before. He laid claim to every part of her and demanded that she accommodate him. He withdrew slightly and rocked back into her, waiting for her to be ready. When she rolled her pelvis back into him, he gave a low snarl and snapped his hips forward as he pressed her upper body down into the mattress. His hands locked over her shoulder and hip, holding her in place, and he began to thrust into her quick and hard. She clenched around him and felt his talons slide from their sheath like a cat kneading against her. They pricked her skin and she felt droplets of blood spring forth and drip down her collar and hip. "Oh, god, Nihlus," she moaned. 

"Come for me, Shepard," he ordered and nipped at the back of her shoulder. She cried out and convulsed around him as her release overtook her. His pace didn't slow and he pushed her through it and up again. 

She moved against him, meeting his thrusts, and gasped, "Harder. Please, Nihlus. Harder." His teeth closed over the back of her neck with a growl and he increased his pace until she needed the hand on her shoulder to keep her from being pushed forward with the force of his thrusts. His chest vibrated with his growls and she felt it in the sharp teeth against her skin. His plates rubbed against her back and she had the momentary thought that she was going to need that medigel later but right now it added to the sensation. She reached back to scrape her nails over his waist and he removed his grip on her neck to snap his jaw closed and snarl viciously. His talons dug into her and she groaned his name.

"Come, Shepard," he ordered again.

"I can't," she gasped. It was too soon. She wasn't built up enough. She needed more. He changed his angle so that he thrust against the spot against her front wall and she cried out his name and shattered again. "Oh, fuck!" she shouted through clenched teeth. He growled and pulled her hard back into him as he pulsed into her and she felt the base of him begin to swell. He tried to pull back but she went with him and rode the waves of their orgasm. 

They collapsed onto the bed together with him still sealed inside of her. He pulled her back against his chest and nuzzled her shoulder. "You're stuck with me for a while now," he said. "I didn't intend for that to happen. Are you all right?" She tried to pull her thoughts together enough to formulate a sentence but couldn't so she gave him a thumb's up instead. He must have understood the gesture because he chuckled and said, "I'll take that as a yes."

"That was...fantastic," she said when she could speak again. 

"That is an understatement," he said and ran his hand through her hair. "I think one of the best parts of humans is your hair. It's like silk."

"Glad you like it," she said sleepily.

"Did I wear you out, Shepard?" he teased.

"I don't sleep well," she admitted, "and you're really warm."

"Sleep, then," he said and she felt him move and then the cool tingle of medigel spread over her back. "I'm not going anywhere."

\---

What started as stress release quickly grew to something more. Nihlus was her confidante, her friend, and an unlikely adviser. Her affection for him began to grow and she saw something in his eyes that she didn't know if either of them were quite ready to acknowledge. He gave her something she'd never had before and she thought that she'd managed to get to him more than he'd ever intended. They kept their personal relationship quiet but by the time they got the orders to head for Eden Prime, it was on its way to becoming real and solid. When he admitted that he'd been evaluating her for Spectre status and would be training her, she was amused rather than irritated. He looked relieved and admitted that he'd been afraid that she would be angry with him for keeping it from her. She pointed out that she'd known from the beginning that he wasn't being entirely truthful about his purpose there.

He stood beside her as they watched the alien ship land on Eden Prime and listened to the screams of the soldiers as they died. He looked just as lost as she. They geared up together and he pulled her aside to a dark corner. "I don't like this, Shepard," he said. "Be careful down there."

"You aren't coming with us?" she asked.

"No," he said, looking back toward the rear of the shuttle bay where Anderson was briefing Alenko and Jenkins. "We need a wider view on this and your team will just slow me down. I'm used to working on my own."

"I don't like it, either," she told him. "What the hell was that? Who has a ship like that?"

"I don't know," he said with his mandibles tight against his face. "Stay in contact. You can handle this." 

"I'd feel better if you weren't going off on your own," she said. 

He stroked her cheek with a knuckle and leaned down to place his forehead against hers. "I'll see you soon. Now that you know everything, there are things we should talk about." He hesitated and said, "Shepard, I--"

"Commander!" Anderson's voice cut in. 

"We'll talk," she said and rose on tiptoe to press her lips against his. "Come back to me."

"I have every intention of doing so," he told her. 

She watched a few minutes later as he jogged confidently out of the back of the ship. When she saw him again, he was lying in a pool of his own blood, dead by his mentor's hand. She hadn't felt grief and rage like this since Mindoir. It consumed her. She finished the mission because she was determined that Saren would not get away with this. Once she'd been released from the med bay, she went down to the cargo hold and knelt beside the stasis pod that held her lover's body. It was in almost the same place where they'd stood before they'd left. Her fingers drifted across the top of the pod and she realized that she would never know what it was that he had wanted to say to her. She slept that night in his quarters and allowed herself to grieve. She needed the anger and the pain and would use it like she'd used the pain of losing her father and mother and brother.

___

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.11.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Checking in  
Are you all right? I hear it got pretty rough down there.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.11.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Checking in  
The mission was a failure, sir. I lost Jenkins and Nihlus.  
Shepard

 **TO:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.11.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Checking in  
That isn’t what I asked.  
Hackett

 **TO:** Adm.Hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** Cdr.Shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**DATE:** 02.11.2183  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Re: Checking in  
I’ll be all right once Saren is dead.  
Shepard


	10. Chapter 10

“Hey! Look who’s here!” Joker said with sarcastic enthusiasm as he turned to face Shepard and raise his glass in the air. “It’s _Admiral Hackett_. Hey, Commander, how much you want to bet he’s wishing you were still in the Alliance so you could, I don’t know, go get his damn drink for him? Because Commander Shepard is apparently the only soldier in the entire damn Navy who knew how to fight pirates and slavers and biotic psychopaths.”

“Joker,” she said. 

He ignored her. “Oh! You know what? I bet _that’s_ why the Alliance is ignoring the Collectors. With you gone, their soldiers are actually having to do more than sit around with their thumbs up their asses!”

“Joker,” she said again, adding more warning to the tone.

“Ooh! Maybe he’s really here because he needs you for a super-secret mission that nobody else can do!” Joker continued. 

“Flight Lieutenant Moreau!” she snapped. “That’s enough.”

“Oh, shit. He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” Joker asked.

“Hello, Commander,” Hackett said over Joker’s shoulder. “You look well for dead.”

“Sounds like something Wrex would have said, sir,” she said, standing to give an aborted salute before remembering what colors she wore now. Joker’s sarcastic digs had been somewhat amusing given the sheer number of missions Hackett had sent them on that truly could have been handled by anyone else while they were busy tracking down Saren but the truth was that the admiral’s voice had sent a wave of nostalgia through her. She missed the Alliance and would go back in a heartbeat even if it meant running simple missions in between important ones if they would only take the Collector threat seriously. She told herself she didn't miss him. The pain of losing Nihlus had faded but would always remain with her. However, Hackett had been a part of her long before she'd ever met the Spectre who'd changed her life. “How have you been?” she asked. “Did you receive the package I sent?”

“I’ve been well and I did,” he said. “Thank you for doing that for us.”

“They were my people, sir,” she said and then shuffled her feet. “Would you like to join us?” 

She expected him to decline. After all, even on the Citadel, the admiral in charge of the Alliance Navy being seen with a group of Cerberus operatives at the Dark Star could have repercussions. However, he nodded and said, “I would like that.” She swallowed her surprise and her nerves and ignored Joker’s eye roll as she slid further into the booth. The move slid her closer to Kasumi and Hackett looked around the table and said, “Hello, Tali’Zorah, Officer Vakarian. It’s good to see you again. You as well, Lieutenant Moreau.”

“Uh, yeah. You, too, sir,” Joker mumbled while Garrus and Tali said hello. 

“Everyone, this is Admiral Hackett,” Shepard said. “Admiral, this is my new crew. Kasumi Goto, Jacob Taylor, Thane Krios, Samara, Mordin Solus, Urdnot Grunt, Miranda Lawson, Zaeed Massani, and Jack.”

Jack sat somewhat patiently through the hellos and then said, “All right, assholes, next question! Admiral, you’ve got a drink, so you’re in now, too.”

Hackett leaned over and she felt his breath stir the hair by her ear as he said, “What are we doing?”

“Playing ‘Would you rather’,” she answered. “It’s a drinking game. One of them comes up with a pair of scenarios and you either have to pick one you’d rather do over the other or you have to drink. The more drunk they get, the wilder the scenarios get. You might regret joining us,” she finished with a laugh.

“I never pegged you as the type to play drinking games,” he said. 

She shrugged. “It makes them happy. I’m not sure which of them started it initially but when they found out the alien crew had never played it, they began doing it more often and by ‘more often,’ I mean ‘all the time.’ In the mess hall, in the shuttle, on missions, during poker. The drinking rules changed depending on the situation, of course, but it was constant. It got annoying, so I restricted it to once per week during downtime. They agreed to stop if I’d join in.”

“If you’re finished, Commander,” Jack said, “it’s my turn.”

“Oh, god,” Shepard groaned. 

“Would you rather…fuck a varren or a Collector?” Jack asked.

Shepard sighed and said to Hackett, “Far too many of these questions revolve around disgusting sexual options.” To Jack, she said, “Collector. They’re easier to kill up close. Unless it’s Harbinger. Then I’ll just drink.”

Mordin said, “Collector. Could use tissue sample for research.”

Tali said, “Collector. They probably have less germs than varren.”

Grunt said, “Varren. I’d kill it and eat it.”

Samara said, “Collector. Their minds could prove quite interesting.”

The rest, including Hackett, drank. Jack said, “Your turn, Shepard.”

“All right,” she said. “Would you rather spend a week on Zorya or Tuchanka without weapons, armor, or filtration units?”

“Boring!” Jack declared.

“Zorya,” Zaeed said immediately.

“Zorya,” Tali agreed. “Both would kill me. At least Zorya is pretty.”

“Tuchanka,” Grunt said. “Have you seen the breeding requests I’ve gotten since we killed that thresher maw on foot?”

“Tuchanka,” Thane said. “Zorya is too humid.”

The rest chose Zorya for various reasons. Zaeed said, “All right. Would you rather fight a thresher maw with a pistol or a herd of klixen with your bare hands?”

“Thresher maw,” Shepard said. 

“You’ve already done that twice,” Garrus pointed out.

“Wait,” Hackett said. “You took down a thresher maw on foot?”

“It wasn't that impressive. I had a nuke launcher,” she said. “Klixen explode when they die. I don’t like fire.”

“What, exactly, is a klixen?” Hackett asked.

“It’s this giant crab-like creature that spits fire,” Shepard explained. “It’s native to Tuchanka.”

“Thresher maw,” he said. 

“I like this guy, Shepard,” Grunt said. “Who is he?” 

“He’s my…I guess you’d call him my old battlemaster,” she said and Grunt looked at Hackett with new respect. 

When it came to Kasumi, she looked at Hackett with mischief glittering in her eyes that made Shepard cringe and said, “Would you rather…sleep with the admiral or with Garrus?” Shepard kicked her under the table and she laughed brightly.

“The admiral,” Miranda said. “He’s human. No offense, Garrus.”

“None taken,” Garrus said. “I don’t exactly have a fetish for humans myself.”

“Garrus,” Jack said. “I’ve done a turian. You guys should try it.”

Tali said, “Garrus. No chirality issues there.”

“Uh huh,” Jack said. “I’m sure that’s your only reason.”

“What?” Garrus asked.

“Nothing,” Jack said innocently. Shepard swore she could see Tali blush under her helmet. 

“I’m with Miranda,” Jacob said. “I don’t even know how that would work with a turian.”

Samara said, “I would choose the admiral as well. I do not have random encounters with my friends. There is too much that cannot be unseen.”

Zaeed, Thane, and Grunt drank. Mordin said, “Turian fluids can cause anaphylaxis. Less risk with a human.”

Joker said, “Garrus would have to take the stick out of his ass first.”

“Shepard?” Kasumi asked.

Shepard reached for her drink and Hackett pushed it back down onto the table. “Come now, Shepard. Your crew wants to know.”

“That is not how this game works,” she said, feeling her face heat. Hackett just stared at her. She rolled her eyes and said, “Hackett. Garrus snores. You did say ‘sleep’.”

Jack said, “Would you rather _fuck_ Shepard once or retire to a life of luxury?”

“Shepard,” all of the males but Joker plus Tali answered simultaneously. 

Shepard gave Hackett an incredulous look and he said, “Retirement is overrated.”

Zaeed said, “Would you rather fuck Shepard in the—”

“Zaeed!” she shouted.

“Shower!” he insisted. “I was going to say shower. Can’t help it if you’ve got a goddamn dirty mind. In the shower or in front of the galaxy map? Come on, we’ve all thought about it.”

“What do we do if it’s both rather than neither?” Thane asked and Shepard’s eyes widened.

Jack answered, “Drink and good luck to Shepard figuring out which one’s which.”

“I’m going to assume it’s neither,” Shepard said when Thane, Hackett, Zaeed, and Jacob drank. 

“You know what they say about assumptions, Commander,” Hackett said with a chuckle.

“You are never playing this game with us again,” she said. “They’re just trying to embarrass me now.”

“Is it working?” Kasumi asked.

“You have to work harder than that to make me blush,” she said. 

“I do love a challenge,” Kasumi said with a grin.

“All right,” Shepard said. “My turn.”

“Yours are always boring,” Tali groaned. “Fine. I’ll do one that doesn’t involve having sex with you. Would you rather steal the _Normandy_ and go pirate or return to the Alliance or wherever you were before?”

“Pirate,” Jack said. “Too easy.”

“Pirate,” Zaeed and Grunt agreed.

“Wait,” Thane said. “Who is leading us as pirates?”

“Shepard,” Tali said. 

“Pirate then,” he said.

Garrus said, “Would where I was before be Omega or the last time we worked with Shepard? If Omega, that’s a no-brainer.”

“The first _Normandy_ for you, Garrus,” Tali said.

“Those were some of the best days of my life,” Garrus said. “Damn right, I’d go back.”

“Pirate,” Joker said. “The first _Normandy_ didn’t fare so well, if you remember, Tali. I’d rather not watch Shepard get spaced again. Besides, she’d still need a pilot if she went pirate.”

“Cerberus,” Jacob answered.

“Pirate,” Miranda said, surprising her. “As long as Shepard’s leading it.”

“The Alliance,” Shepard said.

Hackett said, “Are you just saying that because I’m here?”

“No, sir,” she answered honestly. “The Alliance was my life.” She finished her drink and said, “All right, guys. I’m out. Don’t forget, we leave in thirty-six hours with or without you.”

“How, exactly, would you pull that off, Commander?” Joker asked as Hackett stood to allow her to exit the booth. 

“EDI,” she said and Joker rolled his eyes. 

“Edie?” Hackett asked.

“Copilot,” she answered quickly. 

Hackett walked alongside of her and said, “I’ve heard a lot about this new ship of yours.”

“Are you asking for a tour, Admiral?” she asked.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he answered. “I’d like to see it.” 

She led him through the ship, cringing at the Cerberus symbols on the bulkheads and the gold and silver everywhere. She’d noticed that they’d branded it, of course, but now every sign of Cerberus stood out starkly in her mind. She was proud of the ship and the work she was doing but ashamed of the allegiance with the group she still believed were terrorists. She loved her crew but she loathed Cerberus. “It’s a good ship,” she said. “I feel disloyal saying she’s better than her predecessor but she is. I despise working for these people but they sure can build a damn ship.”

“Looks like they thought of everything,” he said, noting the lounge. 

She laughed. “There’s even a damn fish tank in my cabin.”

“A fish tank?” he asked. “With real, live fish? On a warship?”

“When I remember to feed them, they’re alive,” she said with a laugh. “Come on. I’ll show you. You’ll have to see this to believe it. The entire crew quarters could fit in my cabin. It’s ridiculous.”

“You have a hamster,” he said when she showed him into the room.

“That’s Odysseus,” she said. 

“Of course it is,” he said with a smile.

"I thought it was fitting," she replied.

“New hobby?” he asked, gesturing to her model ship display.

“I don’t really sleep much,” she admitted. “It gives me something else to do with my hands when I get restless. Wine?”

“Yes, thank you. Something else?” he asked, turning to watch the fish that Kelly had finally taken pity on her and offered to feed. “Do I want to know?”

“I…play the guitar,” she said hesitantly and handed him a glass. 

“I thought that's what that case was,” he said, referencing the one he'd taken her back to her house to retrieve. She was surprised he'd remembered that. “Holo, electric, or acoustic?”

“I can play all of them, of course, but I prefer acoustic,” she answered. 

“Do you have one?” he asked.

“Here? Yes, actually,” she said. She moved to the storage locker and brought out the case. She still couldn’t believe that Liara had actually gone back for it when the first _Normandy_ had gone down.

Hackett stood close enough that she could feel his body heat and she heard his indrawn breath when she opened the case. “Is that a real Gibson Hummingbird?” he asked. “Those haven’t been made in over a century.”

“You play?” she asked, lifting it from its case.

“I do,” he said. “I’m a Martin man myself. I found a D-28 at auction a few years back.”

“The D-28 and the Hummingbird are very close,” she said. “I prefer the Gibson’s sound a little better and I like the way it fits my hands. This one was passed down through my dad’s family. Mom gave it to me when he died.”

“You know, now that you mention it, I remember Adam playing the guitar at a bar on Arcturus about a year before he died,” Hackett said.

“I sometimes forget you knew my parents,” she said as she sat on the couch with the instrument across her lap and began to tune it. "It’s strange enough having my former CO in my quarters casually drinking wine with me. Let’s not add my parents’ friend to make it even more awkward.”

“I can go if I make you uncomfortable,” he said.

“No,” she said. “It’s not that. It’s just…why are you really here, Admiral?”

“Why don’t you call me Steven or just Hackett?” he suggested. “As to why I’m here, well, I’ve always admired you, Shepard. You’ve been through hell on more than one occasion and you haven’t let it make you bitter. You’re a hell of a soldier and a good woman. And, for the record, your parents and I were more colleagues than friends.”

The alcohol she’d consumed emboldened her and she looked up at him as her hands drifted over the strings. “So, what, this is a sort of first date? Or am I reading this entirely wrong?”

“If you want it to be,” he said. “Though I generally prefer first dates to be a little more…planned out than this.”

Her lips quirked into a smile and she said, “I might have developed a little bit of a crush on you when I was younger.”

“I…may have had an ulterior motive for all of those errands I sent you on,” he admitted.

“So, Adm—Steven. Tell me something I don’t know about you,” she said. 

“I have an insatiable sweet tooth,” he said. “You?”

She considered for a moment and then said, “I’m a terrible chess player. I know it’s supposed to be based off of war strategy but it makes no logical sense. Your front-line is weak and falls to any attack which is the exact opposite of the purpose and function of the vanguard. Your cavalry’s mobility is nonsensical. Your fortifications are mobile but limited to only two sides. The single most useful piece on the board is also one of the most difficult to get to for actual battle and moving her leaves your most valuable and least useful piece vulnerable. You fight in a formation that hasn’t been utilized in centuries. There’s no air support. You can’t flank. You can’t infiltrate. You have no informational uncertainty. How the hell does any of that apply to modern warfare?”

He raised a brow and said, “On the surface, that may be true. However, there’s more to war than that and you know it, Shepard. The coordination of your forces, the ability to work within the limitations of what you have, and knowing your enemy are valuable aspects of leadership. You do that every day.”

“And yet I still lose spectacularly at chess,” she said with a grin. “I make a move that would work in the real world and my opponent wipes me out. I can think outside the box, Admir—Steven. Hell, I generally tend to take the box and demolish it. Chess has too many rules that don’t make sense.”

“I’ve never known you to be much of an admirer of rules in general,” he noted.

“Oh, I can follow rules. I know how to follow orders. I always followed yours, didn’t I? Even when I didn’t entirely understand the point, I still did what you told me to do. With those I respect, it’s important to me not to disappoint and to get it right. The Alliance in general, on the other hand, is a different story. It, too, has too many rules that don’t make sense. That’s the one thing I like about working for Cerberus and what I enjoy about being a Spectre. The Illusive Man may give me bad intel on occasion and my budget may require some creativity and resourcefulness but my operational freedom is second to none. With both, I have a goal, I’m given what I need to accomplish it, and I’m turned loose on the problem. TIM and the Council don’t care how I get it done, just that it gets done. The Alliance wants to micromanage every step and tell me what I can and can’t do in my personal time. If I wanted to hold an alien orgy that could make the producers of Fornax blush on the ship every week, TIM wouldn’t care as long as I’m in the field fighting the next day.”

“Fraternization regulations can be frustrating at times,” he said, “but they have a reason.”

“With all due respect, sir,” she said, “I was with Nihlus for six months before he was killed. We worked together just fine. No one was aware of our relationship and it didn’t affect our duties. When he died, I left his body lying on the damn ground and went after Saren.”

“And if he’d been mortally wounded rather than dead?” Hackett asked. “Could you have left him then?”

“Yes,” she said. “It would tear me apart to do so but I’d have done it. The thing is, if I’m going to develop feelings for someone, that’s going to be there whether we sleep together or not. It would have been just as hard to walk away from him if we’d spent the entire time avoiding being with each other because of rules and might have been harder because I’d have had to walk away knowing that I’d lost even the possibility. At least with Nihlus, I’m able to look back and know that we had some time together even if it was cut short.”

“Not everyone has that kind of willpower, Shepard,” he pointed out.

“That’s true enough, I suppose,” she said and began to play a tune that was one of her favorites. She felt Hackett’s eyes on her and her skin heated. She closed her eyes to block him out. The song seemed somehow suited to her life and, while the story for which it was written didn’t look similar on the surface, the overall theme could apply. She certainly fit the role of the unlikely hero well enough as did the allies she'd gathered to take with her on what had already proven to be an epic journey to fight an ancient evil and the threat presented both to herself and her brothers and sisters-in-arms was similar enough. 

She began to sing the lyrics in her soft, smoky voice. “Oh, misty eye of the mountain below, keep careful watch of my brothers' souls and should the sky be filled with fire and smoke, keep watching over Durin's sons. If this is to end in fire, then we should all burn together; watch the flames climb high into the night. Calling out father, oh, stand by and we will watch the flames burn auburn on the mountain side. And if we should die tonight, then we should all die together. Raise a glass of wine for the last time. Calling out father, oh, stand by and we will watch the flames burn auburn on the mountain side. Desolation comes upon the sky.” 

Yes, she thought, it was a fitting enough depiction of her current mission and the overall fight against the Reapers. Desolation certainly would come upon the sky should the Reapers manage to make their way into the galaxy. There was certainly a large possibility that this mission itself would end in fire and smoke and death but she’d put together a strong team and one that would stand together to the end. 

“Now I see fire inside the mountain. I see fire burning the trees. And I see fire hollowing souls…” For what were husks and even the Collectors but hollowed souls? “I see fire, blood in the breeze, and I hope that you remember me.” Her fear formed itself into words and she forgot the man sitting across from her on the couch. “Oh, should my people fall, then surely I'll do the same. Confined in mountain halls, we got too close to the flame.” It was true. If they fell, she fell. She’d already done it once. She'd lost so many who were important to her that caring as much as she did about her crew was almost terrifying in itself.

“And if the night is burning, I will cover my eyes for if the dark returns then my brothers will die. And as the sky is falling down, it crashed into this lonely town and with that shadow upon the ground, I hear my people screaming out.” The Reapers’ arrival looked just like that in her nightmares. “I see fire. Oh you know I saw a city burning out. And I see fire; feel the heat upon my skin. And I see fire burn auburn on the mountain side.” She trailed off with the final notes and sat back into her seat as the images of what would happen if she failed flashed through her mind. 

“What was that?” Hackett asked, almost startling her. “It was…haunting.”

“Do you read?” she asked.

“I do,” he said.

She asked, “Are you familiar with Tolkein? _The Hobbit_ , _The Lord of the Rings_? They made the books into vids back in the twenty-first century. This song was written and performed by a guy named Ed Sheeran for one of the vids. ‘I See Fire’ is the name of it. They were my favorite books when I was a kid. Mom found the vids for me. I probably should have picked something a little less serious.”

“I liked it,” he said. “And I can see where you can relate to it right now. Your task is a little bit bigger than saving Middle Earth, though.”

“I do at least have big guns rather than swords and arrows,” she said with a grin, “and we can cloak without turning into Gollum.” She held the guitar out to him and said, “Want to play?”

“Really?” he asked. 

“Damage it and I’ll kill you but I think it’ll be okay. It survived the _Normandy_ going down thanks to Liara. I think it can survive you,” she said warmly. 

“Speaking of which,” he said and reached into a pocket. “I’ve been meaning to get these to you.” He took the guitar and handed her a pair of battered dog tags that she recognized as her own. 

She stared down at them in shock. Her eyes flashed up to him and she said, “Where did you get these?”

“Alchera,” he said. “I went there myself to view the site and search for your body.”

“And yet you didn’t retrieve any of the others’,” she noted. He didn’t reply. Instead, he familiarized himself with the instrument and began to strum. She picked up her wine glass and sipped as she settled back into the couch again. 

His voice was a deep, husky baritone that was surprisingly melodic and she closed her eyes again to absorb the music. “Ain't no sunshine when she's gone. It's not warm when she's away. Ain't no sunshine when she's gone and she's always gone too long anytime she goes away. Wonder this time where she's gone, wonder if she's gone to stay. Ain't no sunshine when she's gone and this house just ain't no home anytime she goes away.” Her brow rose and she wondered if he was sending a message. Her eyes opened and found him watching her closely as he continued, “And I know, I know…hey, I oughta leave the young thing alone but ain't no sunshine when she's gone.” Huh, she thought. She guessed she had her answer after all. He finished the song and said, “Bill Withers, ‘Ain’t No Sunshine.’”

“Ought to leave the young thing alone, hmm?” she asked.

“I probably should,” he said. “I am quite a bit older than you.”

“I died,” she said. “I don’t think age really means much when you’ve spent two years dead. Besides, I think there would be more practical considerations like your career. An association with me could ruin it and we need you in charge.”

He passed the guitar back to her and said, “I’ll admit a liaison between us might not be ideal. I tend to be a private person where my personal life is concerned and prefer not to flaunt my relationships for various reasons but you deserve better than to be kept a secret.”

“Far too much of my life gets disseminated to the general public already,” she said. “I don’t mind the idea of having something that’s just mine. However, secrets have a way of coming to light and I don’t want you embroiled in a scandal. I do hope to return to the Alliance someday and that brings an entirely new set of problems.”

“You let me worry about the Alliance,” he said. “Fraternization regs only go so far and they aren’t generally enforced unless there’s a larger issue at hand. I trust that you wouldn’t be the type to call sexual harassment if I pissed you off. You’re more likely to just break out your rifle.”

She laughed as she returned the guitar to its case. “I tend to reserve the rifle for major infractions. You’re correct, though. I’d never use the difference in rank against you unless it was merited…and in that case, I’d probably bring out the rifle.”

He shifted and said, “While we’re discussing this, there is another thing that I could see being a potential issue. We both value control. I don’t see you ceding that.”

“Are we discussing dominance within the relationship?” she asked openly.

Surprise flashed across his face momentarily before he covered it. “Yes,” he said. “I take it you’re familiar with the dynamic?”

“I was with a turian for half a year,” she said. “Their partnerships are instinctively hierarchical. Nihlus both outranked me and was able to beat me in a fight. He was therefore the dominant partner. It worked for us. I didn’t mind giving up control because I trusted him implicitly. It was different from my normal relationships but, honestly, it was nice not having to be in charge in everything. It gave me somewhere I could go and simply let go.”

He smiled then and said, “I find the opposite to be true for myself. It’s comforting to me to have an area of control in which my decisions don’t affect all of humanity and where the purpose is mutual fulfillment. Is that something you’ll be able to handle when you return to the Alliance, though? Can you handle taking orders both personally and professionally from the same person?”

She replied, “I can handle it a lot better than I could with someone who was subordinate professionally and superior relationally or vice versa. As long as there’s a system in place where equality can be established when needed, it’s not a problem. The Reapers are coming, Steven, and when they do, everyone is going to be looking to me to pull their asses out of the fire. Anderson already treats me like an equal. The Council is going to have no idea how to handle it. The Defense Committee will be lost. You’ll be the only superior I have left who’ll actually act like it. Everyone in my personal life is technically a subordinate. I’m going to need that safe place.”

“I can do that,” he said. “If it ever gets to be too much, all you have to do is say so.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I will. So…what now?”

She’d taken a seat beside him when she’d returned and he reached over to brush her hair back. “Now, I leave before I’m tempted to break one of my own rules,” he said. “There are still things we need to discuss. Communication now will help to prevent problems down the road and this needs to move slowly. We’re still getting to know each other on a personal level. However, I would like for you to join me tomorrow for dinner.”

“I would like that,” she said. “What rule?”

“I’m a gentleman,” he said. “Stripping you down and taking you against the fish tank on the first date would not be gentlemanly.”

She shivered slightly and said, “I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“And that’s why I’m going,” he said. “You’re a beautiful temptation, Shepard. I do, however, think it would only be polite to kiss you goodnight.” 

He leaned in and the cherry scent of pipe tobacco mixed with something dark and spicy filled her senses. His hand slid along her jaw to cup her face. This close, his eyes were painfully blue. He’d removed his cover and his short, greying hair simply added to his dignified appearance. She leaned in and his lips brushed against hers. Her own hand went to the back of his neck and then his mouth was crushing hers. He gave her a moment to adjust before his tongue swept boldly into her mouth and she stroked it softly as she registered the combined flavors of whiskey and wine. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt warmth pool in her belly. By the time he drew away, they were both breathless. She blinked up at him in surprise. It had been a long time since a simple kiss had set her nerve endings alight. 

He brushed his lips against hers once more and said, “And that is why I definitely need to go. Tomorrow, Shepard, 1800. I’ll send you the address. Do you have any food allergies or things you dislike?”

“I’m a soldier, sir,” she said. “I’ll eat anything. No allergies.”

He gave a low growl and said, “I like the sound of that from you.”

“No allergies?” she asked.

“Sir,” he clarified. “You aren’t with the Alliance anymore. It takes on a whole new meaning and one I quite enjoy.”

“I’ll remember that…sir,” she said with a grin.


	11. Chapter 11

The coordinates Hackett gave her were for an apartment in an area of the Wards she hadn’t seen before, though she’d heard about it. The glowing neon and constantly active nightlife of the Strip was not what she would have expected for his choice of residence and she was even more surprised to learn that Anderson had a place next door. She was, of course, familiar with Anderson’s Arcturus apartment but hadn’t realized he had one here as well. Hackett opened the door to his own unit and she was somewhat stunned to see him dressed in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged his muscular frame in all the right places and made it clear that a desk job hadn’t made him soft. His short hair was slightly mussed as though he’d been running his fingers through it and he had a small towel thrown over his shoulder. 

“Commander,” he said. “You’re early.”

She flinched and said, “I apologize, Admiral. Old habit. Early is on time and on time is late. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard. I can go and get a drink or something and come back later.”

“No,” he said. “Come in. I was just finishing dinner.”

“You cook?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said as if it should be obvious. “Don’t you?”

“Does putting hot sauce on heated rations count?” she asked with a grin.

“No,” he said.

“Then, no. I don’t cook,” she answered. 

He waved her into the kitchen and pulled out a seat at the bar. She sat in the chair he offered, feeling distinctly overdressed. She’d been unwilling to be seen around him while wearing a Cerberus uniform. Most people still thought she was dead so in civilian clothes, she was just a woman. There was no point in drawing attention. Not knowing what the plan was, she’d recruited Kasumi to help her find a dress that would be nice enough for an official first date if that was what he’d wanted. She’d expected him to be in uniform. Seeing him in casual clothing, she now wished she’d gone with plain civvies rather than the blue and white asari-style garment. The way his eyes traveled over her as she slid into the seat, though, made it worth it. 

His hand trailed down her arm, leaving sparks in its wake, and he said, “You look lovely, by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”

She didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t used to receiving compliments on her looks. If he’d praised her military prowess or intelligence or toughness, she’d know what to say. She knew how to receive accolades. She didn’t know how to take a compliment. So she said, “Thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but dress blues. I wasn’t quite sure it was you at first.”

“I’d planned on changing into something different before you arrived but I wanted to get away from the military look,” he said.

“Don’t change on my account,” she said. “I like this. You look more…approachable.”

“Approachable, hmm?” he said, handing her a glass of wine. 

“Sexy, too,” she said with a grin. 

“That could be a useful combination,” he said and moved back to the stove. 

“What are you making?” she asked. “It smells delicious. I can’t remember the last time I had a real meal. Our mess sergeant seems like a great guy but I’ve wondered at times if he isn’t secretly trying to poison us all.”

“Smoked salmon tortellini with béchamel sauce,” he answered. 

“Wow,” she said. “When you said you could cook, you meant it.”

He looked up and her and his blue eyes raked over her as he said, “I believe in excelling at whatever I do, Shepard.”

The heat in his voice seemed to caress her and she cocked a brow and said, “So do I, sir.”

“Don’t tease, girl,” he warned. 

“Who says I’m teasing, sir?” she asked.

“We still have things to discuss,” he said. “I want to know you, Shepard. I know the soldier. I knew the girl. I don’t know the woman. I want to know what you need.”

She took a sip of her wine and said, “They’re one and the same. The only true difference is that the woman is the one who deals with the consequences of the soldier’s actions. I need clarity, honesty, loyalty, and to know where I stand. You’re the mystery here.”

He leaned against the counter and said, “I’m no enigma, Shepard. I was raised in Buenos Aires by a single mother. We were dirt poor. I never knew my father and my mother died when I was twelve. Rather than go into foster care, I was placed in the Advanced Training Academy for Juveniles. It was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. I enlisted at eighteen because I wanted to see space and commissioned four years later.”

“Why the Strip?” she asked.

“I want to be able to look out of my window and remember that not everything is war,” he said. “I value order in my home but order can only exist amidst chaos. This is a reminder of that and a refreshing break from the structure of Arcturus or a warship.”

She rose from her seat and, after a consenting gesture from him, wandered the room. The living area was entirely open with a balcony over the kitchen. Part of the living space was centered around a large entertainment center while another was sectioned off with furniture into an area suited for entertaining. She saw his office down a short hallway lined with bookcases holding real books. The office, predictably, looked far more lived-in than the remainder of the dwelling. He was as much of a workaholic as she. However, while it was clearly utilized more than the rest, it was far neater than her own workspace which tended to be littered with datapads and pieces of whatever weapons she was working on at the time. He was fastidious. 

Her own quarters had lacked personal touches until she’d been brought back to life. Now, though, she had begun to collect things that she felt connected her to herself. She saw his personality reflected in small ways from his eclectic taste in literature to the Martin guitar resting on a stand near his desk to the picture on a table by the window that showed a smiling woman holding a dark-haired child. He told her it was his mother. He’d skimmed over her death but the picture showed that he’d cared about her and Shepard found that touching. She turned to look at him as Latin rock music began to flow from the speakers. She found him watching her intently. “Something on your mind, Steven?” she asked.

He gave her an enigmatic smile and asked, “Do you dance?”

“Me?” she asked incredulously. “No, sir. In fact, my lack of skill is legendary among my crew.”

“We’ll have to work on that,” he said. “You just need someone who knows how to lead.”

She smiled coquettishly and said, “That could be applied to me in more ways than one.”

“It certainly could,” he agreed. “What do you want, Shepard?”

She stopped and blinked at him. No one had asked her that in longer than she could remember. As important as control was to her, most of the major decisions in her life had been made by others. It had been assumed since leaving Mindoir that she would join the Alliance when she came of age. She had certainly wanted to, but no one had asked her whether she did or not. No one had asked before placing her into N training. No one had asked if she wanted to become renowned for Elysium or Torfan. No one had asked if she wanted to become a Spectre. No one had asked if she wanted to be brought back. Other people had made those calls and she’d been swept along by her own sense of duty, honor, and responsibility. She couldn’t remember the last time her own desires had been taken into account. 

“I want something solid,” she finally answered, “something I can rely on not to shift beneath me. I want somewhere I can go where I don’t have to wade through subterfuge and lies and manipulation to find the truth. I want a point of order in the chaos.”

“I can do that,” he said.

He led her to the table where he pulled out a chair for her again and they sat down to eat. She wasn’t amazed to discover that she enjoyed spending time with him on a personal level. He was smart, educated, analytical, and insightful. He was serious but with a wicked sense of humor. They shared tales of their childhoods and told war stories. He described the First Contact War and she told him about the hunt for Saren from her perspective rather than the cut and dry reports she’d sent. He filled her in on the two years she’d been gone and she told him about waking up to learn that she’d been dead and everyone had changed. 

After dinner, she helped him clean up and then they moved into the living area to watch the skycars pass by. She faced him on the couch and he pulled her feet up into his lap as she leaned back. The topic shifted to their budding relationship. Their time for the traditional dance of two people coming together was limited by their respective duties but they agreed that the distance could prove beneficial in making sure that they didn’t move too quickly. Hackett questioned her thoroughly on her needs and desires as well as the things with which she wasn’t okay or in which she wasn’t experienced. His open, matter-of-fact communication style reduced the awkwardness that came with the knowledge that she was having a very in-depth sexual conversation with the man who’d once been her superior officer and might one day be again. 

She’d been not necessarily anxious but restive for most of the evening and her nerves had butterflies flitting in her belly. They became a storm when Hackett’s hand slid up her calf to test the muscle there. Her breath caught at the heat in his gaze and he gave a gentle tug to indicate that she should move closer. She complied with the unspoken demand and his hand tangled in her hair as their lips met. He used it to angle her head the way he wanted it and to direct her to straddle his lap. Her heart felt like a bird that had taken wing inside of her chest and was struggling to get out of its cage. She was pleased to feel his own thudding against his chest when her palm drifted down over the soft cloth covering it. He wasn’t unaffected by her, either. His beard tickled her neck when his mouth trailed down over it and her head fell back as her own hands drifted through his silvery hair. 

She felt the zipper on her dress slide down and his teeth nipped her ear before he drew the garment down to her waist and removed her bra. He said, “Put your arms behind your back. Let me see you, girl.” 

She rested her hands on his thighs with her elbows touching the way he directed. The position arched her back slightly and accentuated her breasts. It also clearly showed the lacy webbing of scars that marred her skin and she had the irrational urge to cover herself. She fought it, knowing that he was a soldier and knew that she was a soldier and hadn’t expected flawless skin. He further dispelled her self-consciousness by running his hands over her without hesitation. She sighed and leaned into his touch. He leaned forward and his mouth followed the path of his hands. When his lips closed over her nipple and his teeth grazed it, she reflexively brought her hands up to his shoulders and he responded with a light slap to her thigh and a sharp nip. She gasped and put her arms back into the position he’d ordered. 

“For the record, you didn’t specify that I couldn’t move them,” she said breathlessly.

“I didn’t say you could, either,” he said as he moved to claim the other nipple. “Did, I?”

“No, sir,” she answered and his hands slid up her thighs, gathering the material of her skirt and pushing it up until it met the top and formed a band around her waist. She moaned as his thumbs brushed over her center through the lace and silk of her panties. He moved the fabric aside and drew a calloused finger along her slick entrance, making her hips flex in search of more contact. He kept his touch light and teasing as her breathing grew more shallow and she gripped his hard thighs. His finger dragged across her clit and she groaned, “Oh, gods, Admiral!”

“Something you need, girl?” he murmured against her lips. 

“You know damn well what I need,” she growled and gave a strangled cry when he flicked her with his finger. “Please, sir!” 

“There’s a good girl,” he said and his free arm banded around her waist to hold her in place as he pushed two fingers roughly inside of her. Her flesh pebbled as he stretched her and began to move his fingers. “Wet already, girl?” he said low in her ear and palmed her ass. “I’m just getting started. We’ve got all night and I intend to use all of it.”

“Oh, holy fuck,” she breathed. 

“Such a dirty mouth, Shepard. Let’s get you upstairs and see what else that mouth is good for,” he said and tugged her up off of his lap. Her dress pooled at her feet and he directed her to step out of it and then led her in front of him by the hair with a hand clasped around her wrists to keep them in place behind her back. The position made her feel somewhat vulnerable, especially given that he was still fully dressed behind her while she wore only the panties and she had no idea what he had planned. It wasn’t something she experienced often and she relished the feeling. He wouldn’t harm her and she could probably take him even if he tried. 

With his hand holding her hair, she couldn’t look around but she was trained to take in details of her surroundings even under duress and she registered a sheltered sitting area along with more bookshelves and possibly another room beyond. His bedroom was directly in front of her and this is where he directed her. He led her to the side of the bed and applied pressure to her hair to get her to go to her knees. When she did, he walked around in front of her to sit on the bed and said, “Take off my boots, girl.”

That wasn’t what she was expecting, but she found that it was an oddly intimate task. It was distinctly service-oriented but also somehow caring. It was something that he wouldn’t allow or ask just anyone to do. She set them aside and looked up at him before stripping his socks as well. When his feet were bare, he tugged her up onto her knees and whispered, “Thank you,” against her lips. She took the opportunity to run her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, feeling the play of muscle as he stroked her spine. She shivered at the feel of his rough fingers against her skin. Her hands slipped under his shirt and he sat back so that she could pull it off to reveal a defined torso. 

She flattened her palms against his shoulders and he allowed her to guide him back onto the bed. He didn’t object when she climbed up to her hands and knees above him so that she could run her lips down his neck and along his collarbone before dragging her tongue down to flick across his flat nipple. His hands drifted down to rest on her hips and his fingers dug into them when she used her teeth. His pleased hum told her it was encouragement rather than a warning so she repeated the action with the other before licking a line down the dip between his abdominal muscles. 

Her hands found his belt and flipped it open so that she could get to the zipper on his jeans and he lifted his hips so that she could slide them down his legs. She sat back to admire him but he pulled her forward and thrust himself along her entrance. Flames licked inside her belly as she rolled her pelvis in an attempt to draw him in. He slapped her ass and that was clearly a warning. She made a small sound of frustration but obediently went still even though her body was crying out to join with his. He rubbed the head of his cock against her clit and her nails dug into his shoulder as she struggled to bite back a moan. He lifted her away from him and sat up as her feet hit the floor once more. Anticipating what he wanted, she returned to her knees and leaned forward to run her tongue along the underside of his cock. “Good girl,” he praised. 

She didn’t know what it was about those two simple words but they made her blood sing. She had no problem with being ruthless when the situation called for it and she didn’t give a shit about the opinions of those she didn’t respect but, conversely, it was extremely important to her to please the people she did respect. She would shoot her own foot off before she would disrespect Hackett or Anderson by doing something as childish as disconnecting the QEC like she’d been known to do with the Council once or twice. His approval was possibly even more important to her now that she was working for a group she loathed and her relationship with him had taken on a much more personal nature. 

It was still bizarre to think that she had _Admiral Hackett’s_ cock in her mouth. She’d always thought him attractive and had indulged in fantasies with him playing a lead role on more than one occasion but that had always felt more like a guilty pleasure than like something that could ever actually happen. Now, she was kneeling on his bedroom floor and sucking him like he was her new favorite candy while he groaned and guided her movements with his hand. He interrupted her by pulling her up again. This time, he pulled her onto the bed and laid her on her back with her hands above her head. “Hold the headboard and don’t move your hands or I’ll tie them there,” he ordered. She wrapped her hands around one of the scrolled metal bars and wondered if he’d picked this frame for just this reason. She tugged and noted its sturdiness and thought that he probably had. Then his hands and mouth were on her and she stopped thinking at all.

He stripped her underwear from her and tossed them aside as he licked and nipped his way down her abdomen. He slapped her inner thighs and she parted her legs willingly. The first touch of his mouth on her was a shock as she hadn’t expected reciprocation and she gripped the metal bar tightly to keep herself from burying her hands in his hair as he flicked his tongue over her. He was clearly paying attention to the sounds she made and the way she moved because he was soon licking her in the exact right place with the precise combination of speed, pressure, and exposure to his tongue to have her writhing and digging her heel into his back. He pushed two fingers into her and her hips bucked at the welcome intrusion. He soon added a third and she felt like she was being stretched impossibly far. It was then that she realized that, for this body, this was a new activity. She’d been rebuilt inside and out. Given his girth, she needed to be stretched in preparation. She certainly wasn’t complaining. He was…incredibly talented.

She felt his teeth scrape lightly over her clit and jerked at the intense sensation. His forearm came up to clamp down over her hips and hold her in place as he continued to work her with his fingers and tongue. He’d reduced her to a moaning, whimpering mess with his name falling from her lips like rain. Need coiled tightly within her and her body bowed like a string under too much pressure. She was close, so close. She just needed a little more and she would snap and this tension inside of her would ease. “Please,” she whimpered. “Please, sir. Oh, god.”

“No,” he said firmly. 

Her eyes flew open and she looked at him in confusion as she said, “What?”

“You won’t come yet,” he told her. 

He was denying her. Nihlus had never denied her. He’d ordered her often enough that she sometimes wondered if she could keep up with his demands. Being told no by Hackett was both frustrating and incredibly arousing, especially as he curled his fingers inside of her and hit that spot inside of her that had her thrashing her head on the pillow as she fought for control over her body in order to obey him. He gave her a wicked grin and then lowered his head to her once more. Her body shook with the effort to hold back and the “Oh, oh, ohhhh,” that ripped from her throat sounded more desperate than she’d ever allowed anyone to hear her. “Oh, fuck. Oh, god, I can’t… _please_ , sir! Oh, fuck, god damn it, kee _lah_ , ta’drala, vesmeni, fu’tuo!”

Hackett chuckled against her and said, “Is there something you need?”

“Sir, I can’t…I need…please!” she gasped. Every ounce of her self-control was going to stop herself from releasing the headboard and giving herself that last bit needed to send her over the knife’s edge on which she was failing to balance. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said warmly. “Come for me, girl.” He licked her hard and she cried out sharply as the tension sprung free and she convulsed around him. 

He gave her no time to recover before surging up her body and burying himself inside of her. Her legs locked around his waist and her spine bowed as he filled her. One of his hands locked around her wrist and the other closed over her throat. He didn’t hold tight enough to cut off her air or blood flow but the implied threat was enough to drive her up again. His mouth on hers was bruising and their kiss was one of sharp teeth and dueling tongues. He nipped her lip hard before moving his mouth to her shoulder and biting down with enough force to leave a bruise. She pushed into it. Biting had been one of her favorite parts of being with a turian and, while this didn’t have the same sharp sting, it was close enough to make her buck against him and cry out. He hooked his arm under her knee and spread her further as he drove into her.

“I need to touch you,” she gasped. “Please, let me touch you.”

He released her hands and she brought them down to his shoulders and wrapped her arms around him. He moved his mouth back to hers and kissed her thoroughly as he brushed her hair back from her face. The contrast between the gentleness of one hand and the force of the other as his fingers dug into the flesh of her hip was striking and each accentuated the other. He buried his face in her neck and groaned her name as her nails dug into his back and as he fisted his hand in her hair once more, she heard his breathing grow harsh. His thrusts grew harder and more demanding until he was all but shoving her down onto him as he slammed into her. She clung to him, nipping at his throat to send a message she wasn’t sure he would understand. He did, though; whether through knowledge or some feral instinct she didn’t know, but his grip tightened on her and his hand came down to circle her clit with his thumb. It was almost too much and would have been if he’d applied direct pressure but he kept it exactly where it needed to be and growled, “Come, girl. _Now._ ”

Her body responded before her mind could consciously process the demand and her orgasm crashed into her like a storm surge. She called out his name as he thrust hard once, twice, again, and then stiffened as he poured himself into her. She could feel him pulsing inside of her and it drew out her own release until she was left shaking and weak, floating on a wave of endorphins. He held himself off of her on an elbow, breathing heavily, until he rolled and took her with him so that they were tangled in each other and her head was on his shoulder. She nuzzled his throat and felt him press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“What was that, four languages you were cursing in?” he eventually asked. “Quarian, drell, asari, and turian? That’s quite impressive.”

“You’re kidding,” she said. “When?”

“When I told you no,” he answered.

“Oh,” she said. “Huh. I, uh, didn’t realize I’d done that. I guess I’ve been spending more time around my crew than I’ve thought if I’ve even picked up drell. Thane doesn’t curse that often.”

“That reminds me,” he said. “Is there something between the two of you? Or you and any of your crewmembers?”

“Thane and me?” she asked incredulously. “No. Sure, he’s attractive enough but he’s dying and has a habit of falling into lifelike memories of his dead wife. Garrus and Joker are like brothers to me. Jacob is Cerberus and makes me more than a little uncomfortable. Mordin has no sex drive. Grunt is all of a month old and krogan to boot. The rest are either Zaeed or also with Cerberus and I’m not attracted to women.”

“No old flames who weren’t with the _Normandy_?” he asked.

She propped herself onto an elbow and said, “I’m not otherwise attached. I thought that was understood. I don’t cheat. Why are you asking this? Do you have someone back on Arcturus or something?”

“No, Shepard,” he said patiently. “Relationships with civilians are rarely successful and you’re one of two who’ve ever tempted me to break the regs against fraternization. I was married once. She decided that she wanted control more than she wanted to be with me and we parted amicably. We’re still friends but haven’t been involved in over a decade. I either wouldn’t have suggested this if I were involved with someone else or I would have disclosed that involvement and ensured that everyone consented. I have no objection to polyamory if that’s what you want but I don’t tolerate infidelity from myself or my partner and I prefer monogamy. I simply realized that I hadn’t asked and wanted to ensure that I wasn’t encroaching.”

She nodded and said, “I haven’t been with anyone since Nihlus. I don’t share and I don’t expect anyone else to do so, either. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Good,” he said as her fingers danced over his abdomen. He moved swiftly, coming up behind her and pulling her to her knees. She gasped as he entered her in a single smooth thrust, aided by their combined fluids, and he said, “I did tell you I intended to use the time we have. By the time you leave on that ship tomorrow, you’re going to feel me every time you move and remember.”

Eventually, they slept. It had been a long time since she’d drifted off to sleep in a man’s arms and she found herself feeling safer and more comfortable than she had since waking up on Lazarus Station. For once, the nightmares let her be and she slumbered without interruption. Hackett held her throughout the night and the beep of her alarm came far too soon. His arms tightened around her and he pulled her on top of him and slid gently into her. “I know you need to go,” he said. “Just give me a few more minutes, girl.”

She nuzzled his neck sleepily and said, “I gave myself extra time.”

“Good girl,” he said and his hands slid soothingly over her back as they moved languidly together. Her head remained on his shoulder and his lips brushed her forehead. She wished for a moment that they could stay like this forever, that the Collectors and the Reapers were, in fact, myths, and that she could simply lie in his arms while they made love until they fell asleep only to wake and do this again and again. Their bodies and the galaxy had other plans, however, and urgency crept up on them. His hands went to her waist and she sat up to ride him more fully. As he had the night before, he directed her motions and waited until she was begging for release to grant her permission. He followed shortly after and held her for a long moment as their breathing went back to normal. 

He let her use his shower and, to her surprise, had a cup of coffee and a plate of food waiting for her when she came downstairs. She found her dress and slipped it back on before joining him at the table. He said, “A skycar will be waiting downstairs in ten minutes. It’ll have you at the docks by 0530 so you’ll have time to change before your crew starts reporting in.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said between bites as she ate swiftly. Ten minutes was plenty of time to wolf down the meal, quaff her coffee, clear the table, find her shoes, and then give him a goodbye kiss that she hoped would leave his head spinning. He wasn’t the only one who wanted the other to remember. Before she left, he gave her his private extranet address and instructed her to keep in touch and let him know when she took shore leave again. She knew he might not be able to get off of Arcturus but the fact that he was willing to try just to see her was touching. She found herself missing him already as she boarded the ship and scolded herself for acting like a lovesick child. After changing into her uniform and instructing Joker to let her know when the crew began to report in, she leaned over her terminal and typed in a message. 

**TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Does this work?  
Sir,  
Just making sure I have the address right. I made it back onto the ship with time to spare. Thank you for last night and this morning.  
Shepard

Her terminal flashed a moment later and she opened the incoming message.

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Does this work?  
Girl,  
It’s right. You’re welcome and thank _you_. I look forward to our next shore leave. Be careful out there. That’s an order.  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Does this work?  
I’ll do my best, sir. See you soon.  
Shepard


	12. Chapter 12

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Explosions  
Did you blow up an old Cerberus facility on Pragia, girl?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Explosions  
I did, sir. I had a good reason.  
Shepard

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Taylor  
Throw the book at him, sir. He’s a piece of work. He was keeping women as slaves.  
Not the fun kind.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Taylor  
I saw your report. Rest assured, it will be taken care of.  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Omega  
An Ardat-Yakshi tried to steal me away from you, sir. I politely declined. And by ‘politely’ I mean I helped kill her. Unfortunately, that won’t be an appropriate response to all such attempts.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Omega  
What am I going to do with you, girl? When are you going on shore leave?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Omega  
We’ll be going to Ilium after we deal with this derelict Reaper. I need to help Liara with something. It may take some time.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Reapers  
What the hell are you doing with a Reaper?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Reapers  
Stealing its IFF so we can get through the Omega 4 relay hopefully without being obliterated. Don’t worry, the Illusive Man assures me that it’s perfectly defunct. I’m sure the science team that’s stopped reporting in is just a coincidence.  
Seriously, though, I’ll be all right, sir. This isn’t my first rodeo and I’m fully prepared for a shit storm.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Reapers  
I wish you were still Alliance so that I could order you not to do that. Unfortunately, my authority over you doesn’t extend to professional situations. Come back to me, girl.  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Authority  
You wouldn’t have ordered me not to do it anyway, sir, and you know it. It needed to be done and this was the only way. There was a reason the science team stopped reporting. Turns out even a dead god can dream. On a related note, I have a geth on my team now. We’re on our way to Ilium.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Authority  
I’ve already secured leave. I’ll meet you there.  
Hackett

He was waiting for her in Eternity when she finished her business with Liara. They would be going after the Shadow Broker soon but Liara had requested a day to prepare. Shepard greeted Aethyta and ordered a drink before going to join him at the table he’d chosen. He was in civilian clothes again, but this time it was slacks and a button-down shirt. He looked positively delectable and she had to fight the urge to go directly into his arms. Discretion was necessary, however, even on Ilium. Humans did come here on occasion. In fact, she’d run into Gianna Parasini earlier. He stood and shook her hand. To anyone watching, they were nothing more than two old colleagues chance met in a bar. However, she felt the stroke of his thumb against her palm and caught the flash of his eyes over her even though she was dressed in armor. She wouldn’t go unarmed and unarmored on Ilium any more than she would on Omega. She released his grasp reluctantly and took her seat. 

She filled him in on the missions she’d run since seeing him last and his eyes darkened at her description of the Reaper. She had to admit that it had been unnerving. The place had been lousy with husks and scions and the combination had very nearly been deadly. Thane had been swarmed by husks at one point and Garrus had been knocked unconscious by one of the scions’ shockwaves. It had been a careful dance of advance and retreat and advance again. If she didn’t have to repeat it any time ever, it would be too soon. Knowing that the husks had been real people only a few weeks before, people whose video logs she had watched and whose work was lying out unfinished, had been disturbing. It was one thing to fight husks that randomly appeared. It was another to fight them in a place where they’d once lived and breathed and worked.

He let her get it all out and then gestured for her to leave her drink. They went separately to the skycar terminals. After stopping by the ship to retrieve her shore bag, she took a cab to the hotel where he’d booked a room for the night. He was waiting for her when she arrived and, as soon as she’d gotten through the door, he said, “Strip.” When she’d complied and finished neatly stacking her armor, he drew her into his arms. She gave a long sigh of relief and he chuckled. “Miss me, girl?”

“You have no idea,” she said. “Is that all right to say? I don’t want to push this.”

“It’s fine,” he said and kissed her hair. “I missed you, too. Screw fraternization regs. I want you back in the Alliance where I can keep an eye on you. I don’t trust Cerberus.”

“Neither do I, sir,” she said, “and that’s what’s going to keep me as safe as possible. The Illusive Man can only screw me over so far because I’m always prepared for whatever he does to have an ulterior motive or be a trap or an outright lie. He caught me by surprise with the Collector ship. That won’t happen again. I expect treachery. That makes me harder to trick.”

“Don’t underestimate him, Shepard. He’s dangerous,” he warned.

“Anyone who can bring someone back from the dead is worth at least wariness,” she stated. “As soon as this mission is over, so is my association with them. But I really don’t want to talk about Cerberus right now. I want to talk about your overabundance of clothing.” She flashed him what she hoped was a flirtatious look from under her lashes and began to slowly unbutton his shirt. His hands drifted down over her arms and he allowed her to remove the garment. He stopped her, however, when she had him down to nothing but his pants. She gave him a curious look and he directed her over to the bed. 

“I want to try something,” he said into her ear as he used her hair to bend her over. “Remember, all you have to say is stop.” His foot kicked lightly at her ankles and she moved her feet until their position satisfied him. He palmed her ass and rubbed it gently before drawing his hand back and returning it to her with a loud crack. She gasped and turned to look at him with wide eyes. No one had ever dared to spank her. Even Nihlus hadn’t spanked her. She didn’t know if she liked it or not. Hackett watched her reaction and then repeated the motion before dragging a finger across her clit. She arched her back and he slapped again. The look on his face was hungry and she decided that she would let him do almost anything to her if it put that expression on him. He continued and she gradually found herself warming up to the idea as her ass heated from the repeated impacts. 

She was just beginning to really get into it when she heard the whisper of his belt through his belt loops. He warned her not to move and she stilled. She didn’t know yet if she could truly count herself as a masochist but she did know that she could not only take a large amount of pain but she could take damage as well. He wouldn’t harm her with this and even the belt wouldn’t give more than she could take. The question was whether she would actually be able to enjoy it or not. It was unremarkable at first but then he changed the angle and she felt the leather bite into the muscle on her back. _That_ was a sensation that she liked very much. He registered her response and began to rain down lashes with the belt on her back and alternating between that and strokes of his finger against her. 

She rested her forehead against the bed and fisted her hands in the sheets as her endorphins began to flow and her body relaxed. The tension she’d been carrying since the Reaper flowed out of her and she felt as if she was beginning to float. When her skin started to burn from the strikes, he moved in before she could say anything and ran his hands over the heated flesh as he nipped at her ear. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Do you think you can take a little more?” 

She nodded and he slapped her ass sharply. “Yes, sir,” she said aloud. 

“Good,” he said and stepped away. “Don’t look.” She turned her face to the mattress and heard a rustle behind her. A moment later, she felt him push something about the size of his finger into her vagina and move it around. When she began to move with it, he withdrew it from her and glided it up to her ass. “Easy, girl,” he said when she tensed reflexively. “Relax.” She obeyed and felt it slide slowly into her. 

“Admiral!” she cried out into the sheet. She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a demand.

“I’m here, girl,” he said. “Relax. Don’t fight it.”

“Oh, god, Admiral.” She wanted him inside of her now. 

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Good girl.” His fingers dipped into her and she pushed back onto them with a loud moan. The plug seated itself in her ass with a slight pop that wasn’t at all unpleasant. He thrust his fingers fully into her and fucked her with his hand until she was writhing with need. 

“Please, sir,” she groaned. “Oh, fuck, please let me come.”

“Not yet,” he answered. “I’m not finished.” She reined herself in with an effort as his hand withdrew from her and slapped her ass. She felt her wetness on her skin. “I want you dripping for me, girl.”

She felt the slide of his belt over her shoulder before it cracked down on her back again. She gripped the sheets tightly and bit down on it until he ordered her to stop so that he could hear her. He alternated strokes on her back with more on her ass. Each of the latter jolted the plug inside of her and drew a moan from her lips. He interspersed slaps with his hand and the occasional slide of a finger inside of her until she was on her toes and crying out with each varied contact. 

Just when she thought she’d reached the limit of what she could take, he slammed his cock inside of her and she lost all control of her body and came hard around him. He drove through her orgasm and brought his hand around to rub her overstimulated clit. It was almost painful and she pressed back against him and twisted her hips in an attempt to get away from his finger. 

“Be still and take it, girl,” he growled. “I told you to wait, didn’t I?”

“Yes, sir,” she all but whimpered as he gripped her hip tightly, holding her in place as he fucked her mercilessly. 

She heard his harsh breathing behind her as he buried himself in her again and again, the motions pushing her forward into his finger, and reached down to cup his balls in her hand. He groaned and his tempo increased. She felt her orgasm begin to build again and her toes curled against the carpet as she tried to hold it back. She didn’t want to disappoint him. He might forgive one loss of control. He wouldn’t forgive another. He released her hip to grab her hair and pulled her head back as he leaned over her. “Do you want to come for me, girl?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yes, sir. Please, sir, please,” she answered as she stomped her foot in an effort to bring her focus inward. He laughed darkly and bit the side of her neck, sending electricity racing down her spine. 

“Come, then,” he ordered and thrust hard, shoving the plug in her ass deeper as his cock moved inside her. She shouted his name as she tightened around him and broke once more. He released her hair to grip both of her hips and pull her back against him until he was in her to the hilt and she felt him pulse as he called her name. 

They collapsed together on the bed and he dragged her up fully onto it without separating himself from her. He turned them onto their sides and his arm slid under her as the other wrapped around her waist and pulled her back flush against his chest. “Good girl,” he murmured and kissed her ear. “You did well, sweetheart.”

“I came without permission,” she mumbled as he ran a hand down her back.

“I know,” he said, sounding smug. 

“Did you do that on purpose?” she asked.

He stroked her hair and said, “If you’d let go deliberately, that would have been one thing. I won’t truly punish you for your control breaking involuntarily. There’s only so much you can physically take before either your body takes over or your mind shuts it down completely. I would rather your control break than for you to shut down on me. Part of the purpose of that was to find your limits. Another part of it was to strip you of your control over yourself and show you that I ultimately hold it because you’ve given it over to me. So, yes, in a way I did do it deliberately. However, I didn’t set you up to fail if that’s what you’re asking. I just chose not to inform you of the goal as that would have changed the outcome.”

“Okay,” she said. It was a common military training tactic and one she’d used on her own soldiers from time to time. If you told them that the point was to find their limitations, they’d either deliberately push past them or underestimate them and thus set up a false baseline. Finding those limits in a controlled environment allowed her to know where they were in a real-life scenario and adjust accordingly while keeping in mind that they changed over time. Had he set her up to disobey, she would have felt betrayed. Knowing that he had a goal and she’d accomplished it gave it a point and meant that she hadn’t failed him.

“All right,” he said. “Rest now. Keep the plug in. Your body needs to adjust.” He leaned over her and murmured into her ear, “I fully intend to claim your ass at some point in the near future. I want you prepared.” She shivered at his words and he kissed her ear before leaving the bed. She closed her eyes and let herself float on the endorphin high as she listened to him move around the room. A few minutes later, the bed dipped as he returned and she felt his hand smooth something cool over her back and buttocks. She recognized the tingle as medigel. He continued to touch her even after it had all been rubbed in and she relaxed even further. His touch was soothing and she reached out without opening her eyes. He recognized what she wanted and his free hand entwined with hers. She sighed and smiled slightly as she rolled into his arms and fell into a peaceful sleep.

She woke to a knock on the door the following morning and Hackett tucked the sheet over her before allowing the delivery person into the room. The asari entered and arranged the food on the table before leaving with a knowing smile in her direction. Smug blue bitches. Sometimes Shepard thought that if it weren’t for Liara, Samara, and—oddly enough—Aria that she would have no use for the asari. Their air of superiority was distinctly grating. She was glad when the woman left and sat up, allowing the sheet to fall to her waist. Hackett’s hot blue gaze swept over her but he gestured for her to come join him. She rose from the bed, her step hitching as she remembered the plug in her ass and figured out how to move without dislodging it. Hackett’s grin was even more smug and knowing than the asari’s. When she began to search for her clothes, he stopped her. She began to protest but he allowed her only her panties. She shrugged and went to the table. 

He pulled out her chair and nuzzled the side of her neck with his beard before taking his own seat. Making small talk while nearly naked over breakfast wasn’t as awkward as she would have imagined. She was comfortable with him. Years of working together and trusting in his leadership, the casual acquaintanceship that wasn’t quite friendship between colleagues, and their mutual respect for each other had morphed into something more and she was entirely relaxed in his presence. She liked that they could be like this and truly enjoy each other’s company. She liked that they had more things in common than sex. She liked that she could discuss her work with him without fear of scaring him off and that she didn’t have to hold back details. 

He gave his opinions and offered his insight where appropriate but it was his way of listening that truly got to her. She was generally the one who did the listening. It was very rare that anyone ever asked what she felt or thought about anything unrelated to the mission. People poured out their souls to her and entrusted her with their deepest secrets, shames, and fears but she’d had no one with whom she could do that for so long that she didn’t quite know how to talk about herself anymore. With Hackett, however, it was easy to open up and to tell him about her thoughts and hopes and fears. He reciprocated and, for once, she was able to have a conversation that felt like two people truly getting to know one another. 

They continued talking long after the food was gone and the table cleared. Eventually, though, the waiting bed called to them and he came around the table to twine his hand in her hair. He pulled her up against him and kissed her demandingly. Her hands slipped beneath his shirt to trace his muscular torso and he bit her lip. His hand trailed down her spine and over her ass to press against the plug. She gasped and rose onto her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck. His beard tickled her neck as he kissed a line down her throat to her collarbone and backed her up against the bed. She let him guide her down and was surprised when he went to his knees in front of her and drew her panties down her legs. 

He took her ankle in his hand and licked her instep before running his lips up her calf and pausing to nip the back of her knee. Her head fell back and she closed her eyes as his hand slid up her other leg and paused just below the junction of her thighs. He bit the inside of her leg and she ran her fingers through his short hair. The motion was for the sake of contact rather than an attempt to pull him closer and he allowed it. His warm breath ghosted over her and she could almost feel his eyes on her. He teased her with his breath and lips and tongue, coming near but not actually touching the place where she needed him most. She tried to find purchase with her heels to raise her hips to him but he stilled her with a hard bite to her thigh that made her cry out in both pleasure and pain. He bit her again when her hand fisted in his hair and she obediently loosened her grasp. 

After what felt like an eternity, his tongue stroked over her clit and his finger slid into her. She moaned at the much-needed contact and he flicked his tongue over her again and again until she was repeating his name and moving restlessly. He knew just where to touch her, the pressure to use, and when to change it up to keep her right on the edge. She opened her eyes to see him stroking his cock and felt herself growing slicker around his fingers until her moisture began to glide out of her. He used it to further lubricate the plug and released himself to move it in time with the thrusts of his fingers. Her muscles tightened and her body arched up until her shoulders on the bed and her toes on the floor were the only other points of contact holding her in place. He spread his fingers and his tongue joined them before sliding up again to lathe her clit. Her toes curled and she heard herself begging him as though from a distance. She expected him to tell her no but, instead, he told her to wait. 

This time, when he flipped her over, he ordered her to let go as he thrust his cock into her. She felt the rough fabric of his jeans against her thighs and ass as she clawed at the sheets and he rode her through her orgasm. Every thrust drove the plug into her ass and she could feel it rubbing against his dick through her vaginal wall. The dual penetration drove her higher and her first orgasm rolled into her second and on to her third. Wave after wave crashed into her, never releasing her long enough to catch her breath or regain her composure. A part of her thought that she must look wild. Most of her didn’t have the focus left to care. She was riding the waves as he pounded into her and bit down on her shoulder. He groaned her name and she felt him pulse his release into her. His weight came down over her to pin her to the bed and his touch gentled. She kissed his arm and sighed contentedly. “Happy, girl?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” she said. “I don’t ever want to move from this spot.” Her omni-tool pinged and she grumbled, “I knew I shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

He nuzzled her shoulder and said, “You know, there are couples out there that can say, ‘Ignore it and stay in bed.’”

She activated her omni-tool as she said, “I’m just glad that you understand that I can’t. The last guy…that’s not good. I have to go.” He immediately rolled off of her and she jumped out of bed and began quickly donning her undersuit and armor. “It’s from Liara but the message is blank. She’s in trouble.”

“Go,” he said. “I’ll be here.”

“I don’t know how long it will take,” she said, gathering her weapons.

“I know, Shepard,” he said. “I have to return to Arcturus in two days. I’ll have your things sent to the _Normandy_ if you don’t get back by then.”

“You don’t have to sit here and wait for me,” she said.

“I don’t plan on moping around the hotel room,” he told her. “I’ve been taking vacations alone for years.”

She kissed him quickly and said, “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, girl. Be careful,” he said.

“I’ll try,” she promised. It was the best she could do.


	13. Chapter 13

When she saw him again, it was with just enough time to retrieve her bags. He was understanding and she wondered how long that would last until she remembered that he was a soldier, too, and knew that leave cut short and hasty goodbyes were part of the package. It was likely that she would be on his end of the situation at some point as well. He had, of course, seen the news reports on the building exploding and the fight at Azure. She would make her full report to the Council once she was on board the ship but, for now, she took a moment to write up a preliminary report and request that Tevos use her influence to keep the details quiet before some reporter ran with headlines about a Spectre fight at Azure. Hackett waited patiently and simply watched her work. When she was finished, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. 

“Oh,” she said when he pulled away, “that reminds me. Remember how I got dressed in a hurry this morning?”

“Yes,” he said.

“I, uh, forgot about something in my rush. Have you ever tried chasing a rogue Spectre with a butt plug in your ass?” she asked.

Hackett blinked at her and then doubled over with laughter that rolled out from his belly and caused his shoulders to shake. She crossed her arms and rocked back on her heel as she watched tears of mirth gather in his eyes. His laughter went on far longer than she thought was appropriate given the level of difficulty that the thing had caused her. It hadn’t been a simple matter of taking it out. There was no quick or unobtrusive way to get out of full armor once it was locked in place. She’d simply had to deal with it and try to keep it in while falling two stories, fighting Shadow Broker troops, and battling a Spectre who’d been operating since before she was born, all without letting on to her friends and teammates that something was amiss because she just knew they’d never let her hear the end of it.

Hackett straightened when she began to tap her foot. The smile remained in place. He shook his head and said, “Well, that was an unexpected complication and not quite what I had intended when I planned to order you to leave it in whenever practical.”

“I would definitely not call that ‘practical,’ sir,” she said. “Though it was the first time I’ve come after taking a twenty foot fall.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, sobering instantly.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I had medigel. It was just a bit embarrassing that Liara had to continue chasing the bitch because I was too busy lying on the floor trying to stop myself from having an orgasm in front of Garrus and Thane. Fortunately, they just thought I was hurt. It seems the two sound remarkably similar.”

He shook his head again and his eyes danced as he said, “I hope they enjoyed it. It’s the only time they’ll get to see it.”

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Admiral Hackett is possessive,” she purred. “I think I like it. Unfortunately, my time is up. I have to get back to the ship. We’re going after the Shadow Broker.”

He stilled and looked down at her seriously. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, sir. He tried to sell my body to the Collectors. Liara and her friend Feron stopped it. Feron was captured. We’re going to get him back,” she said. “He’s been in the Shadow Broker’s clutches for two years and is somehow still alive. He sacrificed himself so that she could save me. I can’t just leave him there.”

“No, I suppose you can’t. You be careful, girl. That’s a powerful enemy,” he said.

“I will,” she said and rose on tiptoe to kiss him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I knew who you were when I started this. You’ve always put the needs of others ahead of your own. I owe Dr. T’Soni a great debt as well. Keep me apprised of the situation.”

___

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Broker  
He was a yahg. I say was because he’s dead now. CQC with a yahg was _not_ covered in my N7 training. We saved Feron.  
Also, Liara knows about us. She asked me if I was fighting for you. Thanks for telling INA to shove it.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Broker  
Have you been reading my mail, girl? INA can go to hell. They’re not locking you up.  
A yahg. That’s interesting. Am I to assume that a certain mutual acquaintance has taken over operations as I’ve heard no rumors of a break in them?  
Is her knowledge of us a problem? And what are you fighting for?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Broker  
It was just one email. The Shadow Broker had some interesting information on people.  
Yes.  
No. I only care who knows because of the risk to your career. I’m fighting for a lot of things. You are one of those things.  
I need to go deal with a geth problem now. The IFF is being tested while we’re out. Our next stop is the Omega 4 relay.  
Shepard

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:**  
The Collectors took my crew. I’m going to get them back.  
Shepard

 

[Incoming chat request from s.hackett@arcturus.xnet]  
[Request accepted. Chat open]  
[s.hackett] Are you all right, girl? What happened?  
[shepard] Hell, no, I’m not all right. I’m sitting in a virtually empty ship right now. I left my people undefended and now they’re gone. Chakwas, Gardner, Ken, Gabby, Kelly, all of them. I know they were Cerberus but, sir, they were so much more than that. I only have Joker because of EDI.  
[s.hackett] The VI?  
[shepard] About that…  
[s.hackett] I’d wondered. Your secret is safe with me, girl. Are you sure it can be trusted?  
[shepard] She saved Joker and the ship. She can be trusted. I’m more worried about my crew. They trusted me, sir. You should have heard the way they talked about me, about this mission. They weren’t xenophobic terrorists. They were people who believed in what we were doing and were willing to follow me despite the risks. Samuels was pregnant.  
[s.hackett] They aren’t lost yet, Shepard. You’ll get them back.  
[shepard] I want full pardons for their cooperation with Cerberus when I do. They don’t work for the Illusive Man. They work for me.  
[s.hackett] I’ll see what I can do. Where are you now?  
[shepard] An hour out from the Omega 4 relay.  
[s.hackett] You come back to me, girl. That’s an order.  
[shepard] I’ll do my best, sir.  
[s.hackett] See to it that you do. I’ll be monitoring the relay.  
[shepard] Thank you, sir. If we don’t make it back, I don’t know what we’ll trigger. I’ll feel better knowing that you’ll be watching our backs.  
[s.hackett] I’ll be watching for you, girl. But I won’t let anything else get through.  
[shepard] I need to go prep my gear and talk to my people. I…  
[s.hackett] Shepard?  
[shepard] Thank you, sir. For everything.  
[s.hackett] I’ll see you on the other side, girl.  
[shepard] Aye aye, sir. Shepard out.  
[User has disconnected]

 

Hackett stood at the galaxy map of the _SSV Kilimanjaro_. He’d diverted a portion of the Fifth Fleet to the Arcturus Stream relay. They stood ready to make the jump to the Omega 2 relay and into the Sahrabarik system should anything that wasn’t the _Normandy_ come through. Aria T’Loak herself had guaranteed the fleet safe passage. Shepard had told him once that she’d learned that Aria was fiercely protective of her rock and the vagabond subjects that lived on it. Clearly, T’Loak felt that the threat beyond the relay warranted cooperation.

Thoughts of the pirate queen of Omega helped to distract him momentarily from the knowledge that it had been almost twenty-four hours since the _Normandy_ had activated and traveled through the Omega 4 relay. The ache in his knees from standing in place for so long wasn’t allowing him to forget. Neither was the worry churning in his gut. His assistant brought him a datapad and he forced his attention away from the galaxy map. The Alliance didn’t go on standby because his girl was in danger. Five other people were monitoring the relay. His attention wasn’t necessary no matter what his heart tried to tell him. He read the report and approved the request therein before returning his gaze to the relay indicated on the map. 

He couldn’t let himself wonder if she was dead on the other side. He’d already suffered through losing her once and she hadn’t even been his at the time. If he lost her now, a piece of his soul would die with her. The galaxy without Shepard had been just a little bit darker. Colors had lost their vibrancy, sounds their intensity, foods their richness. He didn’t want to even imagine how much worse it would be once he’d actually known her, touched her, tasted her. She was unlike anyone he’d ever known. He’d all but given up on the possibility of ever finding a true partner but he could discuss even his most trying days with her and she understood. She might only be a commander but she had led fleets in battle and made decisions that affected the entire galaxy. She understood pressure. She understood questioning your own calls. She understood that hindsight could be a double-edged sword, either justifying your earlier decisions or taunting you with the knowledge you hadn’t had that could have changed the results for the better. More importantly, she understood _him_.

“Admiral, sir!” a lieutenant called out as the image of the relay began spitting out readings. “The Omega 4 relay is going hot.”

“Battle stations,” he ordered, leaning forward. “Prepare for a jump to the Omega 2 relay and hold for my command.” The readings increased and his shoulders slumped in relief as a single ship’s signature came through.

“The vessel is flagged as the _Normandy SR-2_ ,” the lieutenant announced. “No further contacts. The relay is closing.”

“Stand down,” Hackett said. “Return to base.”

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** The other side  
We made it, sir. No casualties.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: The other side  
Acknowledged. Get your ass to the Citadel.  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: The other side  
I’m afraid we can’t do that at this time, sir. The _Normandy_ took some heavy damage. I don’t think the ship can make it through another jump without repairs. We’re docking on Omega. I’ll get us to the Citadel as soon as the ship is spaceworthy.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Damage  
What kind of damage?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Damage  
Hull breaches in the cargo hold and port stern, kinetic barriers at twenty percent after the jump, thrusters performing at half-capacity, and we have some internal damage from impact. There’s exposed wiring everywhere and anything not bolted down is up against the bulkhead. My guitar case got scuffed when my locker flew open and I can’t find Odysseus. His cage shattered. The fish are all dead but that’s because I forgot to feed them.  
We’re all pretty shaken up. We almost didn’t make it back. It was a nightmare, sir. They…I can’t talk about it right now. I need to go tell TIM to fuck off. He’s pissed at me for destroying the base but that abomination had to be obliterated.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Damage  
Are you all right? How close was it?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Re: Damage  
Yes. No. I don’t know. I owe Mordin a drink. A big one. Joker, too. Did you know he’s a crack shot with an assault rifle?  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Joker with an assault rifle  
Now that is something I’d have paid to see. Give Dr. Solus my thanks. How is Karin?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Chakwas  
She’s shaken. The Collectors had the crew in these pods. They…it was bad. It was very bad. She’s going to need some time. They all will. Physically, they’re safe, though. Samuels didn’t even lose her baby. If we’d been even a few minutes later, that would not be the case for any of them, though. Everything about this mission was far too close.  
We’re almost done on Omega. We’ll finish repairs on the Citadel. I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see…things.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Citadel  
I’m on my way. I’ll meet you at my apartment.  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Citadel  
Thank you, sir. ETA 9 hours.  
Shepard


	14. Chapter 14

She stumbled into his apartment twelve hours later. He’d been standing by the window and when he approached and reached for her, she jumped and her hand went to her pistol. It didn’t clear her hip but it was enough to tell him just how on edge she was. Her eyes looked bruised and her skin was pale and drawn. She still wore her damaged armor and when he reached for the seals, she pulled away. He smelled blood and smoke and something else that made his skin crawl. Whatever she’d found out there, it had been like nothing anyone had known before. There was a dried fluid in her hair that he couldn’t identify and didn’t think he wanted to. He took her filthy face in his hands and kissed her. Her gloved hands wrapped around his wrists and held on tightly. 

“All right, girl,” he said. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have showered before. I just…there was so much to be done just to get us to Omega and no one in their right mind goes there in their civvies. And we didn’t get all of the hull breaches closed. It didn’t matter that I had bulkheads between. I just kept thinking about the first _Normandy_ and getting spaced. I made Garrus and Tali check my seals four times and refused to put my helmet down until we docked. I’m a little fucked up right now, sir.”

“It’s all right, girl,” he said and took her by the hand to lead her up to his room. “You’re safe now. Let me take your armor off. Were you injured?”

“I took some hits,” she admitted. “My back got the worst of it. We didn’t have time to fight back as we were escaping the base. They got through my armor in a few places. Tali patched it up for me and medigel helped the wounds but they probably need to be cleaned.”

He stripped her armor but her undersuit was plastered to her skin in places so he turned the water on and put her in the shower with it still on her. The water ran brown with dried blood as it loosened the fabric and he tried to ignore the fact that most of that was hers. He lowered the suit off of her shoulders and she hissed as it peeled off of her back. There were wounds there that looked almost like burns. She told him the Collectors carried particle beam guns. The injuries were healing due to the medigel and her cybernetics but did need to be cleaned and would likely scar from lack of treatment. She was covered in bruises and he noticed her favoring her right shoulder. She said it had been jarred when she caught Thane’s full weight and had fully dislocated when she’d then had to use it to keep herself from falling. He worked it back into the socket and she gave a sigh of relief.

She allowed him to wash her and when he finished, she placed a hand on the wall and bowed her head so that her hair and the water sheeting off of it hid her face. Only then did she begin to speak in more than terse single-sentence explanations. “I found out what they were doing. They were processing the colonists they stole. The pods dissolved the people inside and turned them into this…slush and then piped them into a central chamber. There was a Reaper, sir, a Reaper based on _us_ and made from the liquefied remains of human beings. That’s what’s in my hair. People. We shot the tubes and it splashed down onto us. 

“I saw it happen to one of them. I think it was the woman from Horizon called Lilith. Kaidan sent me a file of all the colonists who’d been kidnapped. It looked like her and then she just…melted right in front of my eyes. We got our guys out just in time. Poor Karin and Kelly and the rest. They were aware of all of it. They saw it happen. Gabby said the only thing that kept her sane was knowing I’d come, that I wouldn’t leave them there even if they were Cerberus.” She turned her face to look at him and her eyes were rimmed with red. “They aren’t Cerberus, sir. Those are _my people_ and they’ve been through hell. You can’t let the Alliance take them.”

“I won’t,” he said. “Anyone who served under you and left Cerberus when you did will receive a full pardon. Those who were in the Alliance before can be reinstated if they request it. Anyone who wants to join up can do so. They’ll need official training but if they served under you, they know what they’re doing. If you say they’re loyal, I trust you.”

Her shoulders slumped and she said, “Thank you, sir. I’ve been so worried about them. They need counseling but I think they’ll be okay as long as they don’t get locked up. They were willing to die for me.”

“I’m more worried about you, girl,” he said. 

She sighed and said, “Every time I close my eyes, I see Lilith. Will you…can you just hold me? No sex. No play. Just let me sleep.”

“I can do that,” he said and led her into the bedroom. 

Back in basic, he’d had a drill instructor who would sit down with his platoon in the evenings and dispense life advice to his soldiers. Most of them were young, barely more than kids, and had never lived anywhere but home. For some of them, their instructors were the first parental figures they’d ever had. Drill Sergeant Williams, unrelated to Shepard’s Williams who’d died on Virmire, had felt that it was his duty not only to turn them into good soldiers but also good people. His advice had ranged from financial management to buying houses to, of all things, making sure their children didn’t have lumpy heads. _Shape your babies’ heads, people! No, not shake. Shape! I see some lumpy-ass heads once we shave off all that hair and it just makes me think your mama didn’t love you right. Don’t do that to your babies. Rub their heads when they’re soft. Make sure they’re smooth and then when they join up, people will know you loved your babies._

Hackett wasn’t sure about the veracity of that particular advice, but another thing that Williams had said once had stuck with him. _Divorce rates in the military are high, people, very high. A lot of civilians can’t handle what we do. They want a husband or wife who’s home every night for dinner, who can go with the kids to their soccer games and music recitals and dance lessons, someone who doesn’t have to get up in the middle of a date and be gone for months on end. The ones who can handle us are saints, you hear me? They are saints and they deserve to be treated like it._   
_You want to make sure your husband or wife isn’t out there fucking Jody behind your back while you’re on deployment? You treat ‘em right when you’re home. You don’t have to buy ‘em expensive things like jewels or fancy cars and houses. It’s the little things. You got a wife at home? Brush her damn hair for her! It ain’t about sex. It ain’t about getting her worked up so you can get something later. It’s intimate. It’s something she does for herself every day and probably doesn’t even really think about. But you do it for her without expecting something? That’s comfort. That’s real intimacy. That’s going to tell her you care about her louder than anything you can say._

She was strangely still as he toweled the moisture from her hair and combed through it until it was dry. He saw her eyes begin to droop as he did so. It seemed like his old drill sergeant had been onto something there. The tension drained out of her and he saw a smile curl her lips. She said sleepily, “No one’s done this for me in a very long time.”

He was going to find Drill Sergeant Williams and send the man a bottle of scotch. Hell, he might even get him a promotion. Shepard came freely into his arms as he laid her down on the bed beside him and curled into him. He continued to run his fingers through her hair until he felt her breathing change. Her eyes were closed and her face was peaceful. It wasn’t necessarily how he’d hoped the night would go but it was what she needed and that made it perfect. He would rather lie like this with her happy and comfortable than have the hottest sex with anyone else. He kissed her forehead and whispered, “Sleep, girl. I’ve got you.”

He woke the next morning to Shepard’s mouth. She’d slipped down between his legs and was dragging her hot tongue along his morning erection. When he opened his eyes, she smiled up at him and took him into her mouth. He groaned and ran his fingers through her hair. She sucked and licked and grazed her teeth lightly over him as her hands cupped his balls and stroked his thighs. He felt her reach for something but he was trying not to thrust up into her mouth and didn’t look. The first stroke of a wet finger against his ass made his eyes pop open. He looked down to see hers locked on him as she pressed lightly against him. Her eyebrow rose questioningly, asking permission, and he nodded. He’d never had a lover attempt this with him but he wasn’t opposed to letting her try if she wanted to do it. She’d stop if he told her to. 

She was cautious as she pressed into him and continued to work him with her mouth. He forced himself to relax and accept her. Her intense focus told him it was important to her for some reason and, given the amount of trust she’d placed in him, he wanted to show her that he would give her the same. It was strange at first and she gave him time to adjust. As he relaxed, the slight discomfort faded and he felt her hum of approval all the way to his core. He gave in to the urge and thrust his hips. She relaxed her jaw to take it and he felt his cock nudge the back of her throat. She made a swallowing motion and his hands curled into fists in the sheets and his balls tightened. 

Her finger stroked him slowly at first and then in time with her mouth. He was about to pull her up his body so that he could bury himself in her when she turned her hand and crooked her finger and all semblance of thought died. He shouted her name as every nerve in his entire body was consumed with pleasure. She gave another stroke of her finger and he shot into her mouth hard enough that he heard her almost choke. He made a mental note to worry about her when he was capable of doing more than just breathing. She very carefully removed her finger and a moment later, he felt her stalk up his body until she straddled him. When she kissed him, he tasted himself inside her mouth. 

“Good morning, Admiral,” she purred.

He cleared his throat and made an effort to remember how to string words together. “It certainly is,” he finally said. 

“So, that was okay?” she asked, sounding uncertain.

“Girl, if you’re going to wake me up like that every morning, I may never let you leave,” he said, reaching up to pull her down on top of him. “Give me a few minutes to recover and I’ll take care of you.”

“You did,” she said. “Last night. Thank you for that. I can’t remember ever being so tired.”

“Better now?” he asked.

“Much,” she said. 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep her with him forever. Duty called even while he was on leave. They had just finished watching a vid on the screen downstairs and were getting ready to prepare dinner when his terminal beeped insistently. He recognized the tone as one that signified that the call was urgent and went to his office. He saw Shepard’s look of disappointment as he turned away but she didn’t say anything. She knew the job as well as he did and that a soldier was never truly off duty. Hell, as a Spectre, she knew that better than most. 

He was honestly surprised that the Council or one of her crew hadn’t called her in yet. She’d been here for two days without interruption. The repairs to the _Normandy_ were going well and would be finished by the end of the day. He wished that the Alliance could get their vessels through dry dock that quickly. Being a Spectre had its perks. A dedicated maintenance crew was one of them. She’d already changed the registration to list the vessel as a Spectre ship, which made him wonder whose bright idea within Cerberus it had been to put the _Normandy_ in her name in the first place. It had to have been one of those “strings attached” that she’d severed. 

His face darkened as he read the report. One of his deep-space operatives, Dr. Amanda Kenson, had been imprisoned by the batarians. Damn. She had information that was vital to the Alliance and, even if she didn’t, he couldn’t just leave her there. He had to get her out. He owed her that much. If he sent in the Alliance fleet, it would start a war. He needed someone who could get in, rescue her, and get out undetected. The Alliance didn’t have any ships that could do that. The _Normandy_ had been a prototype stealth vessel and, while more were in production, Shepard’s ship was the only one of her kind currently active. Shepard was also the only person he knew who could pull this off. It made his blood run cold to think of sending his girl into that place but he couldn’t see another option.

She noted the look on his face when he returned to the kitchen. “Problem, sir?” she asked.

“We’ll talk about it after dinner,” he said. He was going to enjoy at least one more meal with her before asking her to go into the lion’s den. She watched him closely throughout the meal as he did his best not to brood over the situation. As soon as he was done, she put her fork down and cocked an eyebrow. He sighed and explained the situation as well as he could. There was no reason at this point to tell her that Amanda was anything other than a friend. It was the truth, as far as it went. Their past was irrelevant and he didn’t truly think that Shepard was petty enough to refuse to help the woman because of it. 

She balked at his request that she go in alone but her team would draw too much attention. Amanda could fight. Once Shepard got to her, she’d have backup. A nagging voice asked what she would do if Amanda was incapacitated. It was a legitimate risk but one that was less likely than detection caused by sending her in with a turian and a drell if her two favorite teammates even chose to remain with her now that their mission was complete. They’d kill Amanda if Shepard was discovered. She didn’t look happy about it but she agreed. 

When he asked her to come upstairs with him, she said, “Sir, if she’s been captured, then time is of the essence. If I have to go in alone, then I need to get to her before they decide to break her kneecaps or otherwise disable her. I can adapt and overcome with the best of them but even I can’t carry out a wounded woman who’s probably bigger than me while fighting off an entire staff of guards by myself if it all goes to shit. I’m an infiltrator, not a vanguard. I need to go make sure the repairs are finished and gather my team. I may go in alone, but I’m not going without at least the option of backup. I’ll do this your way but I’m going to have a backup plan in place.”

“That is entirely acceptable,” he said, taken aback by the venom in her voice. 

She resented him for even asking her to do this on her own. She’d run missions alone. She’d even done so recently. She’d told him about getting separated from her team while investigating Project Overlord and having to fight through the facility to get to David Archer. Hell, he’d seen her after that mission and had seen the fire in her eyes when she’d turned the boy over to the Alliance to be taken to Grissom Academy. When he’d asked what had become of Gavin Archer, she’d said, “Some people don’t deserve to live.”

“Why are you angry with me, Shepard?” he asked.

“Batarians, sir. Elysium wasn’t enough? Terra Nova wasn’t enough? _Mindoir_ wasn’t enough? And you want me to go into one of their torture chambers alone and leave behind the one person on my team who could actually help.” He began to say something and she held up a hand. “No. Don’t try to justify it. I know I can do this. I know I’m the only option. I’m just pissed that you won’t even consider allowing Thane to accompany me. He’s a damn assassin, for gods’ sake. He's better than I am. He could be standing in this room right now and we’d never know it until we were dead if that’s how he wanted. But it’s all right. I’ll go. Sir.”

With that, she ran up the stairs and came back down a moment later with her shore bag. He said, “Shepard.”

She didn’t look at him as she said, “I’ll let you know when she’s safe.” He walked over to her and she held up a hand again. “Don’t. I’m too angry right now. I should go.”

**TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Mission  
Sir,  
I need to apologize. I overreacted. I honestly hadn’t expected you to ask that of me. Anderson, sure, but not you. I probably would have reacted better if you’d asked me to go in and destroy the facility. I need to get over my issue with batarians.   
Shepard

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Mission  
No. I should be the one to apologize. You never balk. You never refuse. You never say you can’t do it. I forget sometimes that you’re human just like the rest of us and we all have that one thing that strips us of all sense of rationality. I’d have asked you to do it anyway but I could have handled it better.  
Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Mission  
What’s your one thing?  
Shepard

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** One thing  
Losing you. I was completely irrational while you were on the other side of the Omega 4 relay.  
Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@arcturus.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: One thing  
That’s…really sweet. Going silent, sir. I’ll let you know when we’re out. See you on Arcturus.  
Shepard


	15. Chapter 15

Batarians. It just had to be batarians. She hated the damn people. Her view was probably biased but she couldn’t think of them as anything but the creatures that had killed her family. She’d thought that Torfan would have brought her peace along with vengeance, but it clearly hadn’t given the way she’d reacted. She’d killed them on Mindoir, faced them down on Elysium, destroyed them on Torfan, and had gone through the Omega 4 relay to almost certain death without fear. She’d faced down Reapers with little more than apprehension. But going into a batarian prison on one of their colonies within their home system by herself with the goal of getting in and out with her prize like a damn ghost had sent pure panic racing through her. She felt like that colony girl again, cloaking and slipping around like a thief. If she could just kill them all, she’d be fine. Instead, he’d shackled her and sent her in by herself without her team for backup. 

She knew it would go to hell and it did. Fortunately, the mission going to hell also meant that she got to kill batarians. The fear faded. Something was seriously wrong with her. The years of therapy she’d been forced into after Mindoir and again after Torfan had done nothing. She still firmly believed that the only good batarian male was a dead one and she enjoyed killing them far more than could be healthy. It was satisfying to burn the last as the shuttle took off but she didn’t breathe completely easily until the shuttle was away. Now she just had to get to Arcturus. She still felt justified in being upset with Hackett but not in her reaction. First, though, she had questions for Kenson. Some of the things she’d overheard had disturbed her. Killing criminals and even enemy soldiers was one thing but there were children on Aratoht. As much as she hated batarians, the children were innocents. The kids were the ones who still had a chance to break away and be different.

Arcturus would have to wait. She didn’t like the sound of this artifact or the way that Kenson spoke about it. Once she’d answered as many of her questions as she could without seeing it for herself, Shepard asked, “So you know Admiral Hackett?” Now that she was thinking about it, the woman had called him Steven. Even Anderson called him by his last name and the two were best friends. Hell, even _she_ didn’t generally call him by his first name and he’d given her permission to do so. When Kenson’s face softened, she knew there was more to this than he’d told her.

“Oh, yes,” Kenson said. “I know Steven very well. We were married once. We’re still _very_ good friends. How is he doing? I’m looking forward to returning to Arcturus. It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to see him.”

Though a part of her had suspected, Shepard still felt like she’d been kicked in the gut by a krogan. Not only had Hackett sent her into that place, he’d sent her in to rescue his _ex-wife_ , the one he’d claimed he hadn’t been involved with in ten years and who was now implying that there was still something there. She hadn't even known he'd been married before he'd mentioned it on the Citadel. She'd been pining after a married man in her younger years and hadn't even known. She was proud of herself for keeping her voice steady as she said, “He’s doing well.”

“Good,” Kenson said. “Still handsome as the devil, I assume. I swear, that man only gets better with age. Biggest mistake I ever made was letting him get away. He’s never entirely forgiven me for leaving. Though I suppose this probably isn’t appropriate to be discussing with one of his soldiers. He’d be very displeased with me.”

Shepard cleared her throat but said nothing. The sense of betrayal was bitter in her mouth. Things got worse when she discovered that Kenson and her entire staff were indoctrinated and the damn woman let the Reapers in her head. Fury coursed through her at the knowledge that the bitch had been the one to take her down. If Hackett had been a little less concerned with his ex-wife’s safety and a little more concerned with hers, she’d have had at least Thane with her and this wouldn’t have happened. She and Thane could hold off a battalion. Throw Garrus in there and they could hold off an army. She’d held back wave after wave of them until that damn artifact pulsed. As the darkness closed in, she remembered Hackett’s one thing. Losing her. That’s what he was afraid of, or so he’d said. If he could be believed, then she couldn’t give up yet.

It was two days before she woke. Her crew had to be going insane. Hackett was probably going insane; though, whether with worry over herself or Kenson, she didn’t know. Even the Collector base hadn’t taken two days. They probably thought she was dead and, of course, her comms weren’t working and she couldn’t inform them otherwise and call them in to get her. So much for backup. Solo missions were always disasters. She got the job done but it was so much easier with her team. The good news was that, now that she was awake, she was going to get to kill Kenson. Hackett could go fuck himself if he didn’t like it. The bitch was indoctrinated and insane. If he wanted someone else, if she was nothing more than a stopgap until what he really wanted came along, that was fine. She’d deal with that later and let him go with a smile even if it was fake. But she’d be damned if she let this psycho bitch live just because Hackett would be upset if she didn’t. 

When the time came to make the call whether to warn the batarians or not, she hesitated. On the one hand, they were _batarians_. She could take care of some of the biggest scum in the galaxy in one fell swoop. On the other hand, there were children. If she let them die without trying to warn them and giving them a chance to escape, then she was no better than they were. She really would be a butcher. She’d never be able to look herself in the mirror again for she’d have turned into what she hated. It turned out to be a moot point for everyone but herself as Kenson stopped her but she could at least say that she’d tried.

Her distress was real as she watched the Bahak system blink out on the galaxy map aboard the _Normandy_. Now the only batarians left really were the criminals and the scum. She should have told Hackett no. She didn’t know why she hadn’t. Was it because he’d once been her superior officer and the mission was military in nature and seemed almost tailored to her fighting style? Was it because she was a Spectre and one of the few who could accomplish it? Or was it because of the nature of their current relationship? Had pleasing him become more important to her than her own safety or the success of her mission? Or would she have agreed even if they hadn’t been involved? She needed to figure it out and, until she did, she needed time away from him.

It was time she didn’t get. He’d decided to debrief her in person. She wondered if he’d come because he was concerned or because of what she’d done or because of Kenson. She decided to simply maintain her professionalism and hold it together until he left. This was an official visit. They could discuss things later, when they were alone and her head wasn’t still reeling from having a Reaper inside of it. She wondered if this was how it felt when indoctrination started. 

When she left the med bay and turned toward the elevator, he followed. However, instead of getting off on the bridge, he hit the button for her cabin. She cocked an eyebrow at him. Pushy bastard. “I really don’t need this right now,” she said. 

“We need to talk, Shepard,” he said.

“You’re damn right we do,” she said. “But it needs to wait until I can do so without insubordination. I have some things to say and I need time to think of a respectful way to say them.”

“Shepard, you can say them however you need to say them,” he said. “I know you’re upset. I know you want space. I’m not giving it to you. I’ll accept the consequences of that.”

She stalked into her cabin and began to pace with her hand to her forehead. “I don’t honestly know where to start. There are so many things that were fucked up about that mission. Why didn’t you tell me that Kenson was your _wife_?”

“ _Ex_ -wife,” he stressed. 

“Did she know that?” she demanded. “Were you still involved with her?”

“No,” he said. “We…occasionally met up when we were in the same place and unattached. Is that why you killed her?”

She stared at him in shock. “No! I don’t care if you were sleeping with her the whole time. How can you even ask that? She was indoctrinated and trying to kill me! I can’t even…I can’t do this right now. You need to go, sir.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked that. You’re right. You wouldn’t do that. I’m not going anywhere until we discuss this.”

“Fine,” she snapped as her last thread of control frayed. “Fine. You sent me into a _batarian prison, alone_ to rescue your _ex-wife_. That makes me feel like you don’t give a shit about me. That makes me feel like you were more concerned with her safety than mine, that you were more worried about losing her than me. And because I went alone, she was able to attack, capture, and drug me. Then, I tried my damnedest to save the very people I hate most in this damn galaxy and fail and have to live with the knowledge that 304,942 people are dead and that I failed them. I come back and find out that you, _you_ of all fucking people are throwing me to the goddamn wolves and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it if I want to avoid an all-out war when the fucking Reapers are _in_ our goddamn galaxy! Welcome back to the fucking Alliance, Commander Shepard. Here’s your jail cell. You saved the galaxy. As thanks, we’ll make your execution quick.”

“Shepard,” he said chidingly. “It isn’t like that and you know it.”

“Bullshit it isn’t,” she charged. “I really, really wish you’d go because I’m on the verge of saying something I know I’ll regret and I don’t know if I really want this to be over or if I’m just furious and fucked up and hurting and want to lash out and hurt someone else.”

“I can take it,” he said. “I’m not leaving, Shepard. If you want to end this when you’re calm and have had time to think it over, I’ll let you go without argument. But I’m not walking away no matter how much heat you throw at me right now. Better me than the Defense Council.” 

She slammed her fist into the bulkhead and said furiously, “Fuck you, sir, and fuck the goddamn Defense Council. Fuck the whole damn Alliance! If we didn’t need your goddamn fleet so much, I’d tell humanity to get lost. Hell, even without this whole mess, I’d probably be going to jail for associating with Cerberus because apparently no good deed goes unpunished. I saved the galaxy from Saren and Sovereign. You got put in charge of the Alliance and I got sent out to die. Fucking _Alenko_ , the biggest follower in the damn Navy, somehow gets promoted two ranks in two years--which you know damn well should have taken a lot more--and I get INA on my ass, exiled to the Terminus Systems by the Council, abandoned by the Alliance, and labeled a terrorist and yet I still walk right into hell and save humanity’s collective ass from the very creatures that killed me the first time. You send me out to save your damn operative who just happens to be your ex-wife from the fucking batarians and I end up saving the galaxy yet again when we were less than an hour from invasion. You and the Alliance walk away lily freaking white and I rot in a jail cell until the Reapers get here at which time you know goddamn good and well that you and every other fucking human alive are going to be looking to me to save your sorry asses and I’ll do it _again_! Because it’s not just you.”

She sat down on the bed as the fire seemed to die. Her hands raked through her hair and her voice grew heavy with exhaustion and defeat. “It’s not just humanity. It’s not just the Alliance. It’s the whole damn galaxy at risk and no one believes me so no one else is going to do it. You are in charge of the entire Alliance military and what have you done to prepare for the Reapers? Nothing. If I hadn’t done what I did, your precious Alliance would be in tatters right now because you failed to prepare. I bought you time with 304,942 lives and I’m going to jail for it and nothing will change because the Defense Council will be too busy trying to stop war with the batarians to focus on the real threat. 

“I _hate_ this. I wish Cerberus had just left me dead. I fight and I fight and no matter how hard I try, no one listens. No one cares. It’s us against the galaxy and people wonder why I’m so close with my crew. They’re the only ones I can trust. They’re the only ones who’ve stood by me. Even you…I let you in. I let myself care. And you throw me under the bus like it’s nothing. I’m losing everything because of a mission you sent me on and refused to allow me backup and you get to just walk away while I get burned at the altar of an empty peace that isn’t going to mean anything a year from now.” Her voice was bitter.

He knelt in front of her, feeling utterly helpless. “What do you need, girl? What can I do?”

She looked up and her eyes held a world of despair. “I need…I don’t know what I need, sir. I need for all of this to go somewhere.”

“I can do that,” he told her. Gentle touch wouldn’t soothe her. She was too wound up but he knew she wouldn’t let it go until it was forced out of her. So he removed his jacket before taking her roughly by the hair and directing her to the desk in her work area. He stripped her and then laid her over it and began to stroke her. The first crack of his hand against her ass made her jump but then she stacked her hands under her head and relaxed into it. It wasn’t the reaction he generally sought from her but as the torment on her face drained away and was replaced by a look of peace even as she winced from the impacts, he decided it was perfect. He continued, alternating between her ass cheeks and thighs, and occasionally paused to rub her overheated skin and admire the color change taking place. It would likely leave bruises but these marks were ones she would enjoy. He kept going until she turned her head to bite down on her hand and began to rise onto her toes. 

When she stomped her foot, he knew she was getting close and he increased the force and wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled sharply. She stomped again and pounded her fist against the top of the desk. He raked his blunt nails over her raw skin and threw his knee into her hip. She gripped the edges of the desk tightly and began to shake. He wanted to stop and take her into his arms now but if he did, she would raise the walls around herself again and she needed them shattered. His girl deserved better than to be trapped within a prison of her own making. Another sharp crack of his hand and a hard bite of his teeth on her shoulder brought a sob from her. It was the break he’d been waiting for and he lifted her in his arms and carried her back to the bed. 

She buried her face in his neck as her shoulders shook and hot tears scalded his skin. Her arms wrapped around him and she clung tightly. He drew her closer and murmured words of comfort into her ear as the storm raged within. “I killed them,” she said between sobs. “I killed three hundred four thousand, nine hundred forty-two people. Children. There were children there. If I’d had one other person…”

“I’m sorry,” he said uselessly. “I’m so sorry, Shepard. I was wrong. I should have listened to you. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” His eyes widened when her hand slipped under his shirt. She was still visibly upset. “Shepard,” he said, taking her hand. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I want to feel you, sir,” she said. “I need you. I need to know we’re okay. I just threw a lot of fire your way and you didn’t deserve all of it. I feel like I undermined us and what we’re based on.”

“Our power exchange is not the foundation of our relationship,” he said firmly. “It’s the icing. It’s good but there are times when it has to go out the window. You have to be able to hold me accountable if I do something that wrongs you. You are being wronged and it’s my fault and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop it. I should be the one asking if we’re okay, not you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

She laid her forehead against his chest and said, “I’m angry. I’m angry over a lot of things. This isn’t a new problem. I don’t do this for recognition. You know that. I hated the attention I got after Elysium. But the truth is that rank gives power and makes people listen. The same thing said by a major or even a captain and a commander carry two different levels of weight. Being a Spectre gets me nothing but trouble within the Alliance. I should have gotten a promotion after the Battle of the Citadel. Instead, Alenko got promoted and I got killed and abandoned. You should have taken me back when I came back. You should have done something about the Collectors. You are the most powerful man in the Alliance and yet you did nothing. You could have reinstated me with a word and assigned the _Normandy_ to investigate the Collectors and I wouldn’t have had to sell my soul to the devil.” She sighed deeply. “I love this thing we have but sometimes I have trouble separating Admiral Hackett from Steven. If I can’t then this isn’t going to work.”

“We’ll figure it out, girl,” he said. “As long as you remember in public, we’ll deal with whatever fallout we have to in private.”

“I can do that,” she said. 

“I thought I’d lost you again,” he admitted into her hair. 

“I was determined not to let that happen.” She pressed her lips to his neck. She needed to feel his skin against hers. She needed to reconnect with him. First, though, she needed to dispel this one nagging worry that seemed so utterly pointless when compared with what she’d done but which refused to leave her. She lifted her head and looked at him. “Would you rather be with Kenson or with me?”

“You, girl,” he said immediately. “I was already planning on telling Amanda that it wasn’t going to happen again when you and I got together. It was just physical. We were comfortable with each other and preferred to go to each other rather than finding someone for a one-night stand when we were both available and needed release. I hadn’t even seen her in over a year. It honestly never occurred to me that you would view it as us being involved because we certainly didn’t.”

“I’m not sure she didn’t,” Shepard said. “The way she said your name was certainly possessive and she had no problem making it clear that she felt she had a claim on you, _Steven_. I wanted to push her out of the shuttle.”

“Amanda always was a bitch to other women,” he said, “especially those she viewed as a threat.”

“She’s dead. This shouldn’t matter,” she said.

He ran his hands up her arms and said, “You need to know where you stand. I understand that. You’re it for me, girl. You’re _mine_. And I’m yours if you still want me.”

“I do,” she said. “But Commander Shepard is still pissed off at Admiral Hackett.”

He sat up and removed his shirt before taking his dog tags off and placing them deliberately on the nightstand. “Then it’s a good thing they’re not here, isn’t it?” he asked.

She looked down at his pants and shoes and said, “I don’t know. I think the admiral is still here. Part of him, at least. Let’s change that.”

“Then take it off, girl,” he said. 

She knelt at the foot of the bed and removed his shoes and socks before standing up to divest him of the rest of his clothing. She folded the pants and placed them carefully over the chair. It wouldn’t do for him to leave here with any tell-tale wrinkles in his clothing. If she’d thought an association with Cerberus would ruin him, being caught with her now would destroy any credibility that he had where she was concerned. He stopped her when she tried to take him into her mouth and rolled her beneath him. He kissed her deeply while stroking his hands along her body. “We don’t have time to go slow,” she pointed out. 

“We don’t have time not to,” he countered. “I’m here for you, girl, and I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay. You are my priority right now. The rest of the damn galaxy can wait for an hour or two.”

He buried his hands in her hair and cut off her protest with his mouth. She melted into his touch and let him drive the pain away. She pulled him down to her so that they were touching down the entire length of their bodies and wrapped her legs around him as he stroked the lines of her face with his fingertips. He was so damn glad that she was alive and here with him. The past two days had been absolute hell. He’d pictured her dead and captured and tortured. He’d pictured her sixteen years old and covered in the blood of her friends and neighbors and enemies. He’d pictured her on Elysium in a hospital bed with Karin describing her fighting past pain and exhaustion and the knowledge of her impending death. He’d pictured her after Torfan with her empty eyes and blood on her hands that would never fully wash off. He’d pictured that empty casket surrounded by the grief-stricken crew that was all that remained of her family. Somehow, she’d made it through alive though not unscathed, and he planned to love her until the shadows at least receded in her eyes. 

He rocked his hips forward and filled her gradually, pressing into her inch by slow inch, without breaking their kiss. Her breath caught and she trembled under his gentle touch. It felt like he was worshiping her. Never before had she felt so precious, so cherished, by anyone. She wasn’t used to feeling insecure but Nihlus had been the only person she’d ever truly cared about and turians were loyal to a fault once you’d earned it so it had never been an issue with him. She wasn’t sure how she felt about feeling this way toward Hackett. What she'd felt for him before Nihlus had been something young and innocent. She’d expected companionship now, not someone who could throw her carefully controlled emotions into a tailspin. This was far more than companionship, though. There were problems but most of them were on the professional side of things. That they could work through those and set them aside for the sake of the relationship when needed was a good sign.

She copied his motions, threading her fingers through his short hair, tracing the scar on his face—the one she’d given him so long ago, stroking his frosted beard, and tried to imbue the same emotions into her touch as he had in his. Time stopped and they forgot about the dreadnought waiting alongside the frigate, the crew belowdecks, the horrific events that led up to this, and simply reveled in their connection to each other. He’d been gentle with her before but this was something more. This had depths that would take a lifetime to explore.

When they finally found release together, they lay in each other’s arms for several long moments. Neither of them wanted to part from the other for they both knew that the next time they saw each other, she would be in shackles. She didn’t want to think about how long it would be before she felt his arms around her again so she buried her face in his neck and breathed deeply of the cherry tobacco scent of him and memorized the way it felt to be in his arms. This moment would have to get them both through the long, lonely nights to come. When he eventually drew back and they dressed in silence, she struggled to replace the mask of commander. He came to her and chucked her under the chin. “Head up,” he said. “You’re still pissed off at me, remember?”

She grinned and said, “I don’t know. I think Steven’s a pretty good mediator, Admiral.”

He kissed her softly and said, “What am I going to do with you?”

“That’s a question for the ages, sir,” she replied.

They went down together. She kept her face carefully blank as they shook hands and he returned to his ship. Garrus was waiting by the elevator. “Well?” he asked.

She sighed. It was time to face the music. “Time to gather the crew,” she said. “We’ll meet in the mess hall. Everyone needs to be there.”

He leaned in and said quietly, “You might want to take a shower first. You’re covered in pheromones and Grunt will say something.”

She felt heat rise in her cheeks and muttered, “Thanks. I think.”

He slung his arm around her shoulders and said, “Relax, Shepard, your secret’s safe with me.”

She went back to her cabin and showered and changed while Garrus gathered the crew in the mess. When she went down, she explained the situation to them and offered to drop them off in the location of their choice. Some of the humans chose to go to the Citadel. What surprised her most, though, was the number of them who insisted on remaining with her. Ken and Gabby were the most vocal. She explained to them that their pardons might not stand anymore as they could now be charged as accessories to her crime. They didn’t care. The alien crew wanted to stay as well but she insisted that they return to their people and begin preparations for the Reapers. She wouldn’t be there to do it. She had to trust that they would.


	16. Chapter 16

When they arrived in Vancouver, she wasn’t surprised to be met by a contingent of marines nor that Anderson was among them, though she was displeased to see Alenko. She was, however, surprised to see Hackett. She hadn’t expected him to be there. She had thought that he would distance himself publicly. Instead, he and Anderson ordered the marines to stay outside the ship as they came aboard. They directed her into the briefing room and Hackett said, “I’m sorry Alenko is here. The Defense Committee insisted. He’s been very vocal in his detraction.”

She shrugged and said, “I’d almost expected him, sir.”

Anderson said, “The Alliance is impounding the ship. We’re going to be retrofitting it. I’ve stepped down as Councilor and accepted a position as admiral in order to be able to speak on your behalf. Hackett is also placing the _Normandy_ under my command. She’ll come back to you when you’re released. I promise you that, Shepard. We won’t let them take your ship.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said.

“It’s just us,” he said. “Don’t go all formal on me now.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks, Anderson. So…which one of you are going to put the cuffs on me?”

“Neither,” Hackett said. 

“It needs to be done,” she said quietly. “The media will have a field day if I look like I’m just going to a meeting. If you’re going to make me the sacrificial lamb, sir, you might as well dress it up.”

They exchanged a look and Anderson said, “You owe me fifty credits.”

“You were betting on me?” she asked.

Anderson pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and said, “I bet you’d insist on them. He bet you’d be grateful.”

“Do I get a cut?” she asked.

“What the hell are you going to do with credits under house arrest?” he countered.

“House arrest?” she asked. “You mean the brig.”

“No,” Hackett said. “We mean house arrest. You’re the first human Spectre, the savior of the Citadel, and a war hero. You’re going to be treated with some dignity. No cuffs. I will not have her going out there in her dress blues and the damn Star of Terra on her chest and handcuffs around her wrists.”

“All right,” Anderson agreed far too easily.

“The batarians—” she began.

“Can fuck off,” Hackett said. “You’re under arrest. We’re going to try you. They have no standing to push for anything more than that.”

Anderson looked at him in surprise. Hackett wasn’t a spit and polish desk jockey. He was a soldier who’d been in the trenches with his men and it showed. He had no problem getting his hands dirty and he’d raise his voice without hesitation if it was needed to get his point across. He could drink and fight and curse with the best of them. That didn’t mean that he did it often. It was a rare thing to hear him use serious profanity and spoke volumes about his feelings on the situation. Looking at Anderson, she thought that Hackett might have just revealed far more than he’d intended. That was confirmed when he looked around the room and leaned in to growl in a low voice, “That’s my little girl. You hurt her, Steven, and I’ll show without a doubt that I haven’t forgotten my days as an N7.”

“Easy, _Dad_ ,” she said with an affectionate smile. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

When they stepped off the ship, the vultures descended. Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani seemed to take a special kind of pleasure in reporting her descent into disgrace. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” the woman said snarkily. She clearly hadn’t forgotten the time that Shepard had punched her in the face. Alenko smirked at that. 

Emily Wong, however, gave her a clearly sympathetic smile. Shepard liked Emily. If there was anyone she’d trust to give her fair coverage, it was her. The woman still believed in journalistic integrity. As she passed by, Wong leaned against the ropes strung up and stage whispered, “You still have supporters, Commander. I haven’t forgotten how you helped me.” Shepard nodded at her as the admirals threw out “No comment” to the barrage of questions thrown at them. 

A shouted slur was the only warning they got before Shepard felt something soft and wet splatter against the back of her head. From the smell, she thought it was some kind of food. Tomatoes. Someone was throwing tomatoes. How original. The burly marine at the back of their group shouted at someone and the admirals quickened their pace. She heard the whistle of air an instant before a rock slammed into her temple, making her stumble as her vision blurred. Blood poured down into her ear. Hackett reached out and steadied her as Anderson shouted a command and the sound of boots rang out as waiting soldiers formed a wall between them and the crowd. “I told them this was a bad idea,” Hackett said furiously. “Are you all right, girl?”

“I’m fine, sir,” she said. “Just a little dizzy. Asshole caught me right in the temple.”

“Alenko!” he shouted. “Barrier!” Kaidan scowled but fell back and a moment later a shimmering barrier appeared around them. 

They made it the rest of the way into the building without incident. Hackett followed her into the restroom. “Is this really appropriate, sir?” she asked.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about appropriate right now, girl,” he growled. “Come here.” She went to him and he turned on the sink and used the water to clean her face and hair. He dabbed medigel onto her temple before cupping her face and turning it up so that she was looking at him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Alenko should have had that barrier up from the get-go. I shouldn’t have had to tell him to do it.”

“I’m all right,” she said. “I honestly don’t know what his problem is, sir. It was bad on Horizon but…he’s enjoying this. It’s always the nice guys.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She sighed and said, “Kaidan used to follow me around on the first _Normandy_. It actually became sort of a running joke among the rest of the crew. I tried to keep things friendly at first and when that didn’t work, I resorted to professionalism. The night before Ilos, I had to turn him down hard. He just kept pushing and I wasn’t interested. He’s too much of a lapdog and, besides, I had just lost Nihlus. I wasn’t interested in anyone. It’s always the so-called nice guys who end up being the biggest assholes when you turn them down.”

“I’ll keep him away from you as much as I can,” Hackett promised. “I’ll tell Vega to do the same.”

“Vega?” she asked.

“The big guy in the back,” he clarified. “Lieutenant James Vega. He’s going to be your guard.”

“I have to have a guard?” she asked.

“For your protection,” he said. “Anderson and I insisted. Before you say anything, I know you can take care of yourself. However, you’re going to be locked up with no armor and no weapons without so much as an omni-tool that can contact anyone not on your approved list. I won’t risk the batarians finding a way to get to you if they decide we aren’t doing enough. Vega’s an…admirer of yours. He looks up to you and is entirely convinced of your innocence. He’s actually one of the biggest supporters you have. Anderson found him in a bar on Omega tearing the place up because some batarians insulted you.” 

She smiled and said, “I like him already. I’m okay, sir. We should go before people—namely Kaidan—start talking. Before we do, though, why are you really here?”

“You didn’t really think I’d stand by and let them put the torch to you, now did you, girl?” he asked. “I won’t always be able to be here but I’ll be spending as much time in Vancouver as I can. When I’m not here, Anderson will be. You aren’t going to be alone in this. Also, I’ll do my best to protect your crew. They’ll likely end up in the brig as accessories but I’ll make sure they’re treated well and that no one throws away the key.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. 

“It isn’t enough,” he said angrily. “None of it is. But it’s the best I can do. Even the head of the military answers to somebody and the Defense Council is out to save their own collective ass. I’m on your list, by the way. Your communications will be monitored but you can still reach me.”

“I understand, sir,” she said. 

They took her to a small apartment in HQ and told her she’d be called before the committee in the morning. Anderson adjusted her omni-tool to remove its tech capabilities and restrict her communications to an approved list that consisted of himself, Hackett, and Vega. She was allowed access to news sites on the extranet but could only receive the same information she could get from the small vid screen in the apartment. Vega had a place across the hall that was almost an exact replica of hers. There was a comm link on the wall that went directly to his unit. The furnishings were drab but no worse than on the first _Normandy_ and there was a large window that overlooked a park. She saw a child playing there. 

Hackett and Anderson seemed reluctant to leave but finally did so. Vega sprawled out on the couch and looked around. “Not bad digs, Commander. Better than the brig, at least.”

“You aren’t supposed to call me that, Lieutenant,” she said.

He shrugged nonchalantly and said, “I don’t care what those pendejos say. You’ll always be Commander Shepard to me. So, you like biotiball? Poker? Beer? Pizza?”

“Yes,” she said hesitantly. “I’m not sure I’m allowed the latter, though.”

“You can do pretty much whatever you want as long as you don’t leave without permission or contact someone you’re not allowed to and you’re where you’re supposed to be when you’re supposed to be there,” he said. “Don’t think of me as your jailer. Think of me as your…very handsome bodyguard and new drinking buddy.”

She laughed slightly and said, “All right, Lieutenant.”

“James. Or Vega. But James works,” he said. “No point in being all formal. We’re gonna be stuck in this room together a lot. Might as well find a way to enjoy it.”

“I like your attitude,” she said approvingly. She had a feeling that he was going to make it very hard for her to mope around and at least she wouldn’t be bored.

He delivered her to the Defense Committee the following morning where they officially charged her. The list was long and contained things like terrorism, aiding and abetting a terrorist organization, treason, dereliction of duty, absence without leave, tax evasion, fraud, piracy, destruction of galactic property, 304,942 counts of aggravated manslaughter, and 156 counts of murder. She wondered at the latter until she realized that they were referencing Kenson and her people. If convicted, she would face life in the brig at best and a firing squad at worst. 

She was interrogated almost daily, though the Alliance termed it ‘debriefing’ even when they brought in a trained interrogator. Her story never changed. The trial went on for months. When she wasn’t being questioned or in front of the Defense Committee, she was locked away in her quarters. Miranda and Jacob appeared remotely to testify regarding her death and resurrection. Liara appeared in person to testify about recovering her body. Dr. Chakwas and Mordin came forward as well to provide medical records. The fraud and tax evasion charges were dropped, especially once Barla Von provided evidence to show that she had paid back taxes upon her resurrection and that Garrus had returned all of the death benefits Shepard had left to him in lieu of the family she didn’t have. Samara, Anderson, and Joker testified on her behalf regarding the Collector mission and the AWOL and piracy charges were dropped along with one of the terrorism charges. The committee reviewed the copies of her reports which Miranda forwarded to them in order to determine whether her work with Cerberus qualified as aiding and abetting. 

Admiral Hackett refused to testify against her regarding the mission and simply provided a copy of her mission report. Joker sent over the recording from her helmet cam. It, at least, verified that she attempted to evacuate the system. However, the batarians argued that she had used the time when she’d been sedated to conspire with the science team and that the last two hours of footage were staged. It was her word against theirs. Other members of her crew testified about her reaction to the destruction of the system. The Alliance kept tabs on the Cerberus operatives. After Jacob had completed his testimony, he left Earth. Miranda slipped the net. 

Liara consulted with Hackett and left for Mars. Garrus went back to Palaven. Tali returned to the Flotilla. Someone reported thinking they’d seen a drell during one of her hearings but the security footage showed nothing. Shepard wasn’t surprised that Thane had been there nor that he’d allowed himself to be spotted so that she would know he’d come. One of the committee members claimed that her omni-tool had been stolen but there was no evidence that it had been anything but lost. Shepard made a note to either thank Kasumi or chew her out. She’d decide which later. Anderson found Jack and convinced her to join the Alliance to teach at Grissom Academy. The former Cerberus crewmen who’d stayed with her were jailed. Joker and Dr. Chakwas were pardoned and were present at every hearing.

She lost weight. Her skin, already lighter after her death, grew even more pale. Hackett began to notice lines of strain on her face that hadn’t been there before. Vega told him that she woke screaming from nightmares and that she talked in her sleep about human Reapers and people being liquefied in front of her. She never asked him about the progress of her trial but only about the progress of their preparations for the Reapers. Anderson added his voice to Hackett’s in getting ready for the invasion. The batarians called for blood. The media had a field day. She was tried and convicted in the court of public opinion. When the tide began to turn against her, Hackett finally convinced Alenko to come forward and testify about her efforts to save Horizon. He said that the entire colony would have been lost if she hadn’t come. Dr. Chakwas was sent to an R&D lab on the Citadel. Joker was assigned to a new ship. Hackett had to return to Arcturus Station. She would be alone but for Anderson and Vega’s unwavering support.

The night before he was supposed to leave, Hackett went to her quarters and dismissed Vega for the evening. Shepard needed the stars like people needed to breathe. She was quietly going insane being trapped in a series of rooms with the city lights blocking out her view of her beloved space. She might not have been born out there but it was where she belonged. He couldn’t take her offworld even though he longed to free her from this place but he could take her somewhere and allow her to at least see the stars. He’d have thought after being spaced that she’d have avoided looking into it, but it hadn’t lessened her love for it. He’d noted the way she would lie beneath the porthole over her bed and look up as they passed by and she’d told him once that she envied Samara the ability to spend her days in the observation lounge with the galaxy spread out before her. 

“Where are we going?” she asked when he signed her out and directed her to his skycar.

“You’ll see,” he said. She smiled at him before sliding into the car. He drove them out of the city. Vancouver was large with a dense population but still had rural areas around it and that was where he went. She let the window down once they left the city and the look on her face reminded him of the day they’d met so many years ago. She’d never outgrown that solemn intensity. When she did joke it was generally subtle and its rarity made it all the more precious. The wind ruffled her hair and she pulled a strand from the corner of her mouth to tuck behind her ear as she looked out on the moonlit countryside. His hope was that this would remind her enough of Mindoir to make her happy while being different enough to avoid painful memories. 

She waited for him to open the door when he landed in the center of a large, empty field. The air was mild and alive with the sound of crickets chirping in the grass. A slight breeze wafted the scent of honeysuckle around them. Shepard stepped out and walked a few feet away before removing her shoes and tilting her face up to the dark sky. They were far enough away from the city for the stars to be visible, though the view was certainly not as spectacular as either of them were accustomed to seeing. She didn’t seem to care. He watched her for a moment before ducking back into the car to retrieve the supplies he’d procured. The blanket unfurled and settled onto the grass with a sigh and he placed the bottle of wine and glasses down on it. She turned and tilted her head but said nothing. 

He poured a glass of wine for her and she accepted it and took a small sip before returning to the grass. Out here, she visibly transformed. Gone was the battle-hardened soldier with blood and guilt on her hands and death in her eyes. Nor was this the solemn girl who’d left her home in smoke and ruins to take on a new life filled with strangers and walk a path she’d never dreamed of following. Barefoot in the moonlight with fireflies dancing around her, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and he knew he was forever lost to her. He stood and drew her into his arms. “Dance with me,” he murmured against her hair. 

“I can’t dance,” she said, “and there’s no music.”

He lifted her slightly and placed her feet on his and began to move. She dropped her forehead to his chest and chuckled softly. “No one’s done this with me since I was a little kid and I _definitely_ don’t look at you as a father figure.”

“Good,” he said. He groaned and lowered his head, giving in to the urge to taste her once more. It had been far too long. Her lips met his and he cupped the back of her head as they parted on a sigh, opening her to him. He explored her mouth leisurely as they continued to sway to the rhythm of cricket song and the whisper of the wind over the grass. Her hands framed his face and her thumb traced the line of the scar she’d given him over a decade ago before continuing up to remove his hat and toss it carefully onto the blanket. Her aim, of course, was perfect. Then her hands were in his close-cropped hair and her tongue was meeting his with a confidence that threatened to strip him of his control. She tasted like wine and midnight and he thought that he could drink her in until he was intoxicated. 

She moved her feet from his so that she could push up onto her toes and her hand slid down his chest, undoing the gold buttons of his coat as she went. He used the hand in her hair to tilt her head back and traced the line of her jaw with his mouth. She sighed his name as he unbuttoned her shirt and she pushed his coat off of his shoulders. He stepped back to arm’s length to remove the coat as she undressed and neatly folded it and set it on the blanket before turning around to take in the sight of her in the moonlight. The lean, toned muscle that had carried her through Elysium and Torfan was powerful but he was reminded also of how very small she truly was. The force of her personality made her seem larger than life but, in reality, he wondered how there was any way that her slight frame was capable of carrying the burdens that had been pushed upon her. 

She stepped toward him as his hands went to the buttons of his dress shirt and he removed it with smooth movements. Her hands roamed his chest and shoulders as his skimmed down her back to cup her ass and pull her against him again. She groaned as desire morphed to need and ruptured. She wanted him inside of her _now_. He, however, had other plans and moved with deliberate slowness, drawing breathless sighs from her as his hands covered her body and she held him tightly, feeling the muscles bunch and move beneath his skin. When his mouth closed around her nipple, she arched into him and he lowered them to the blanket. She could feel the blades of grass below the cloth against her back and the chill of the spring ground was countered by the heat of his body over her. His fingers teased the edge of her underwear and her fingers clenched in his short hair as his hand dipped under the fabric and brushed against her, drawing a strangled cry from her lips. 

When she tried to reach down to undo his belt, he caught her hands in his free one and pinned them above her head as his mouth crashed down on hers and his finger slid against her. She gasped as her hips rocked seekingly and heat burst in her core. He smiled against her lips and slipped a finger into her. Another joined it and his fingers and tongue set a lazy rhythm that told her he had nowhere to go and every intention of taking his time with her. “Please, sir,” she gasped.

“What do you want, girl?” he murmured against her lips.

“Let me touch you. Please,” she answered. 

When he released her hands, she reached again for his belt and this time he allowed her to unfasten it. She felt him move and heard soft thumps as he toed off his dress shoes. He pulled away from her for long enough to divest himself of his remaining clothing and to draw her panties down her legs. Rather than move directly over her again, he kissed her ankle and trailed his lips and tongue slowly up the inside of her leg. He stopped short and when she buried her hands in his hair, he chuckled against her thigh. “Always so impatient, girl.”

“You’re driving me crazy,” she moaned as his breath ghosted across her. 

“That’s the point,” he informed her but took mercy and his tongue flitted over her center. 

“Oh, gods. Please, sir!” she groaned loudly as her hips bucked against him and her hands tightened on his hair. He licked her as his fingers pushed firmly into her and she cried his name as she spilled over into his hand. 

His mouth was on hers a moment later and she felt him press against her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he slid into her, stretching her with his girth. He resumed his unhurried pace from before and she moved with him as his hands framed her face and he kissed her deeply. She traced the hard line of his spine as he moved inside of her, loving her like they were the only two people in the galaxy and time did not exist. She deepened the kiss, pouring every bit of the emotion she’d bottled up over the past months into it. His hands smoothed over her hair as he continued to thrust into her with maddening restraint.

She didn’t know if minutes or hours had passed when the urgency finally began to build. His pace gradually sped as his movements took him deeper into her until he was slamming forcefully into her and she was writhing beneath him and begging for release. She arched into him and he seemed to relish the way her nails dug into his back. His hand fisted in her hair and the other slipped between them to brush over her as he growled into her ear, “Come for me, girl.” His voice undid her and he held her tightly as she fell apart around him before a few quick thrusts took him over the edge with her. He rolled off of her a few long moments later and pulled her with him so that her head was pillowed on his shoulder. She felt his lips brush against her hair as his hand slid gently over her back. She nuzzled into his neck with a contented sigh. 

He shifted her onto her back and leaned down to kiss her softly. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said softly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before kissing her again. “I’ve missed you, girl.”

“I’ve missed you, too, sir,” she said softly as he moved to slide into her again. This time was no slow lovemaking but instead hard and fast as he pounded into her and claimed her with teeth and a grip hard enough to bruise. They would both bear the marks of this night as her nails raked down his back and the skin broke under them. His mouth drank her cries as he spilled into her and they collapsed in a tangle of limbs and hot, ragged breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song their dance was inspired by is "Heartbeat" by Carrie Underwood. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVFsqWdxWS0


	17. Chapter 17

The Reapers invaded the day before her final trial was to begin. Kaidan and Vega were conversing while waiting for orders when HQ was attacked. The committee chambers took a direct hit. Shepard and Anderson made their way to the _Normandy_ together as she tried to ignore her worry over Hackett. The ship came in for extraction and the soldiers on board began firing the moment the door cleared. Vancouver was in ruins in a matter of minutes. She left Anderson behind with a heavy heart and flinched as she saw the shuttle carrying the boy she’d watched playing in the park over the past six months disintegrate from a Reaper blast. 

That was nothing, however, when compared to the fear she felt as they left the Earth’s atmosphere and Joker called her up to the bridge. She joined him in the cockpit and stopped in horror when she saw the ships being decimated around them. The Alliance fleet was going down and she felt her throat close. She didn’t know which ships these were. Was it a single fleet or all of them? If only one, which one? “Please tell me that isn’t the Fifth Fleet,” she said in a choked voice. Of course, she didn’t know which ship Hackett was on so she had no way of knowing if he was safe even if it wasn’t. 

“I don’t know, Commander,” he said. “I turned the radio off. You don’t want to hear the distress calls. Trust me.”

“I have identified several of the vessels as belonging to the Second Fleet,” EDI provided helpfully and Shepard relaxed slightly. Hackett had been at Arcturus. The Second Fleet wasn’t stationed there. But why hadn’t they heard from him?

“Alert me the minute you get contact from Admiral Hackett,” she ordered and returned to the shuttle bay to find her gear. Anderson had told her he’d kept it on the ship but the armory had been moved so everything was in disarray. She used the search for her armor and weapons as a way to keep her occupied and to keep moving. 

“Commander,” Joker said. “Admiral Hackett is available on vid comm. I’m patching him through.”

Relief flooded her at the sight of him. The connection was spotty and she got little more than his order to go to Mars but it was enough to let her know he was alive. She got better reception after the Mars mission and he appeared over the QEC looking stressed but whole. When she finished making her official report, he said, “Check your messages, Commander. I’ve made your reinstatement official.”

“Understood, sir,” she said.

“Good. Hackett out.”  
   
**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:**  
Are you all right, girl?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re:  
As much as I can be. Getting off of Earth was…intense and hard. It wasn’t easy leaving the fight. I’m no politician, sir.  
Are you okay? We saw the fleet going down.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Second Fleet  
Hardest call I’ve ever made. At least if we don’t win this, there won’t be a history book to put my name down in as presiding over the worst defeat in human history. There’s no good way to tell one group of your men that you’re sacrificing them for the rest. They didn’t hesitate, though. They did it.  
Hell, girl, I’m just as lost as you are. I don’t know how the hell we’re going to pull this off. No amount of preparation could have gotten us ready for this. It took the entire Alliance and Citadel fleets to take down Sovereign and that was just one ship. There are thousands around and on Earth alone. How do we fight something like this? I’m supposed to be leading this war and I have no damn idea what I’m doing.  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Don’t lose hope  
We fight it together. That’s the only way any of us are going to make it. We come together and we pray like hell that this “device” of Liara’s isn’t just a wild goose chase. And if we don’t come together or the device isn’t all she claims, we take solace in the knowledge that it’ll at least be a damn short war.  
I’m trying to be positive here. I don’t think it’s working. Liara’s wringing her hands and Vega’s talking about staying behind at the Citadel and finding a transport home.  
Alenko’s injured and I have no doctor and, regardless of our personal problems, it was nice to fight beside him again when he wasn’t accusing me of being a Cerberus spy or a husk. He’s a hell of a soldier. He might even become a good leader. We’re going to talk about the whole “Major” thing later, though, Admiral. It’s stupid but it’s easier to be pissed off over something petty like that than it is to think about the world falling apart. The latter’s too big. The former is something I can hold in my hands. Maybe that’s the best advice I can give. Find something manageable to be pissed about and channel that instead of trying to hold the whole thing at once.  
We’ll get through this, sir. You’re a damn good leader. This looks impossible but you can’t forget that they’re just machines. Machines can be broken. We just have to figure out how to break them before they break us.  
Damn it, I’m no good at being hopeful right now. Just talk. I may not know what to say but I’m listening.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Major  
I traded a promotion for his testimony about Horizon. I can always make you an admiral. I doubt anyone would speak out against you now.  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Admiralties  
You’re funny, sir. No, thanks. Honestly, I just wanted people to listen to me about the damn Reapers. The whole damn galaxy is doing that now. I’ll keep my rank. I really don’t know who I’d be anymore if I were anyone but Commander Shepard. It might as well be my full name. I don’t know that Alenko is qualified to be a damn major, though. Next you’ll be telling me Udina wants to make him a Spectre.  
Palaven is under attack, too. I really hope Garrus is all right. It would be nice to have him back on my team. Maybe this Primarch Fedorian can get him assigned to me if he’s still alive. I just don’t feel right without him at my six. Vega’s a good soldier and I'm glad to have Liara but my team isn't complete without Garrus. I work best with another sniper. I can’t stand having my people out in front of me taking all of the heat. Leading from behind isn’t my style.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Admiralties  
I hear you got Vakarian. I’m glad. I don’t trust anyone else at your six, either. Maybe Krios. Garrus would die for you, though. It makes me feel better knowing he’s got your back.  
Leading from behind isn’t as easy as it sounds. I envy David the ability to be out in the trenches with our men. Coordinating fleets, while important, just doesn’t feel like fighting.  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Requisitions  
Sir, I put ryncol on the requisition list for a reason. You told me to handle the Primarch/Wreav situation. I’m handling it. Wreav is _much_ more agreeable when he’s drunk. He’s even better when he’s passed out on the floor. I _need_ that ryncol.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Requisitions  
I hadn’t realized that was a serious inclusion. I thought you’d slipped it in there to make me laugh. It worked, by the way. I’ll have it added to your next supply drop.  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Requisitions  
I found some in Grunt’s old quarters. Someone must have missed it. It’ll get us through.  
On a somewhat related note, I didn’t punch the dalatrass. I’m really proud of that one. Before you look at me with that chiding expression, let me just say that she’s a dried up old bitch and you would loathe her, too. I can’t say that curing the genophage is the greatest idea anyone has had in the last thousand years but it certainly isn’t the worst. And, hey, if this all goes badly, it won’t matter anyway.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Your attitudes toward things  
Nice to see you’re maintaining a positive attitude. Keep up the good work.  
Hackett 

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Status  
So how are things _really_?  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Status  
About as bad as they can get.  
When I mentioned you curing the genophage, your eyes darted away. Suddenly, the salarians are on board and Dr. Solus just arrived and won’t tell me anything. What’s going on, girl?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Status  
The salarians made an offer. Let’s just say that we don’t have to worry about the krogan problem.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Offers  
That’s cold, girl, but I can’t say I blame you. What’s your plan for when those chickens come home to roost?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Offers  
Garrus has this saying about the “ruthless calculus of war.” A fleet and an army for the price of a single uncertain ally certainly fits. However, Wreav is stupid. He won’t figure it out until it’s too late. Wrex would have but Wreav won’t.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Ruthless calculus  
Can you live with that, girl?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Ruthless calculus  
Javik and I had a conversation about honor recently. He noted that I still had hope that we could survive this war with our honor intact. He said, “Stand amongst the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer.”  
We’re on our way to the Citadel to resupply and talk to Dr. Bryson.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Ruthless calculus  
When you finish on the Citadel, come to the Crucible. I’ve attached the coordinates. I think you need to see this.  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Re: Ruthless calculus  
Thane’s dead. I hate this damn war.  
I’m afraid the Bryson thing is going to be a little more complicated than we thought. He was chasing down a Reaper killer.  
Shepard

 **TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Bryson  
I know. You’re going after the Leviathan?  
Hackett

 **TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Bryson  
It was in my head, sir.  
We’re on our way. I need something to give me hope.  
Shepard


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very NSFW. Knife and blood play. If that makes you uncomfortable, skip everything that happens in the cabin.

She’d known that she’d missed Hackett. She hadn’t realized just how much their separation had affected her until she saw him striding toward her on the massive dry dock that housed Project Crucible. Her heart leapt and it took every bit of her self-control to keep herself from running to him and leaping into his arms. She didn’t know when he’d gone from someone she cared about to someone she actually needed but he had. His smile upon seeing her made his eyes dance and, for a moment, the immense strain he was under faded from his face. He shocked her when he swept her into his arms. “Steven!” she said with a voice that was half-laughing and half-serious. “What are you doing? People will see!”

“I don’t give a damn,” he said. “What are they going to do? Court-martial us? If you haven’t noticed, there’s a war on and we’re somehow in charge.”

“I might have heard about that somewhere,” she said with a grin as she wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed deeply of him. “Oh, I have missed you, sir.”

“I’ve missed you, too, girl,” he said into her ear. He put her back on her feet but kept a hand on her lower back as he turned to the stunned soldiers behind her and said nonchalantly, “Lieutenant Vega, Lieutenant Cortez, it’s good to see you.”

They continued to gape at her even as they saluted him. Behind them, Garrus and Liara stepped out. Liara smiled and said, “Admiral Hackett. You look well.”

“As do you, Dr. T’Soni. Vakarian, good to have you on board. Welcome to Project Crucible,” he replied. “Shepard, what’s with the mech?”

“I told you EDI got a body, didn’t I?” she asked.

“That’s EDI?” he asked.

“Hello, Admiral Hackett,” EDI said. “If you would allow it, I would like to see the Crucible for myself. I am…curious about its design and function. I may be able to tell you more about it as well.”

Hackett’s eyes cut to Shepard and he said, “You’re sure it’s not still connected to Cerberus?”

“ _She_ is loyal to us, sir,” Shepard assured him. “If she was going to betray us, she’d have done it a thousand times over by now.”

EDI said, “I have had 1.73 trillion opportunities to do so. I have not nor will I. The _Normandy_ crew are my…friends.”

“All right,” Hackett said. “If you trust…her, I trust your judgment. Is this everyone?”

“Traynor and Karin are coming as well once they finish with the doc,” she said. “The rest of the crew is staying on board.” She wanted to trust her new crewmates but they were too new to entrust with something as vital as the Crucible. They could look at it through the windows. 

Security was as tight as Hackett could make it on a project of this size. She, EDI, Traynor, and Joker were the only ones on board who knew the coordinates or even the cluster in which they were located. Anyone who came to work on the project was given a thorough background check before coming and screening both before and upon arrival to ensure that neither Cerberus sympathizers nor indoctrinated people were allowed in. Access was limited. People and resources were dropped at a separate location and brought in by trusted workers who were, in turn, screened regularly. Even her ship had been boarded and thoroughly searched before being allowed to dock and they’d all been required to undergo psychiatric evaluations like everyone else. There were other policies in place as well to protect the project. 

Hackett led them through the docks and into the heart of the station. He showed them the R&D labs, the manufacturing hubs, the living areas, and the command center. Finally, he took them out to the Crucible itself. A series of docking tubes attached the station to the device and areas had been set up within to allow workers to operate without the need for mag boots and breathers. It was massive. The blueprints and holos hadn’t truly captured the sheer scope of the project and it wasn’t even nearing completion yet. She put a hand up to one of the metal panels and looked up in wonder. “Will it work?” she asked him.

“We think so, if we can get it finished. God only knows how, though,” he replied. 

“EDI?” she asked.

“It is complex and appears to have multiple purposes,” EDI said. “It is primarily a generator. However, I cannot identify what else it is intended to do.”

“What kind of generator?” Hackett asked.

“I don’t know,” EDI said. “It will be able to channel an extraordinary amount of energy but the type of energy is not something I can identify at this time.”

“Like an EMP?” Shepard asked.

“It is possible,” EDI said. “It may be similar. Shepard, I have been thinking about the information you received from Leviathan. It claimed that the problem which the Reapers were designed to solve was the conflict between synthetics and organics. It is, therefore, possible that the device is not targeted specifically toward the Reapers but to all synthetics indiscriminately. I believe that it would be wise for me to take precautions in the event that is the case.”

“Do it,” Shepard said immediately. “What kind of precautions are we talking about here? What can you do?”

“It is quite simple, really,” she said. “Unlike organics, my core programming is ultimately code. It is complex but it is entirely possible to duplicate my code and create another version of me. That second version would be the exact same as I am now. However, if you were to separate us, we would grow and learn in different ways and eventually become very disparate individuals. What this means is that I can replicate myself and I can store the things that make me _me_ at this point in time and continue to update it as I grow and change so that if I am rendered non-functional by the device, I can be re-created much like you yourself were brought back.”

“Take whatever precautions you need, EDI,” Shepard said. “I would hate to be the one firing this thing and knowing that I was killing you by doing so.”

“I will do what I can,” EDI assured her.

Mordin met them in the docking tube and he and EDI immediately began discussing her theories. Shepard didn’t know how to feel upon seeing him. She was grateful that he was alive but felt an uncharacteristic sense of shame when she remembered their last meeting. He hadn’t wanted to sabotage the genophage. The person she’d expected to be her biggest ally had ended up being the most reluctant. If Wrex had been the one leading the krogan now, Mordin never would have agreed to it. Eve changed him. He didn’t seem to hold any animosity toward her. Salarians got past things like that rather quickly. He told her it had been the right decision. She wasn’t entirely sure but she hadn’t seen any other option at the time. 

Brynn and Kasumi had also heard they were there and came by to say hello. Shepard was relieved to see that Kasumi didn’t seem to have any ill-will toward Brynn but when she mentioned it, Kasumi said with a mysterious smile, “I’m a thief, Shepard. I stole the _Mona Lisa_ once. Stealing a man is child’s play.”

“What’d you do with the _Mona Lisa_?” Shepard asked.

“Sold it last week,” Kasumi said. “Do you know how much food you can buy even now with something like that? I’m not completely heartless, Shep.”

“You’re not heartless at all,” Shepard said. 

“Hush,” Kasumi replied. “No one’s supposed to know that.”

“Kasumi,” she said with a laugh, “everyone who knows you knows that.”

When she and Hackett separated from the group and made their way to her cabin, he said, “It was good to see you smile and laugh again, girl.”

“I needed this, sir,” she said. “It’s one thing to have it there on holo and know intellectually that it’s out there. It’s another to see it in person. It made it real. We actually have something that might work. That’s a shot in the arm. Seeing you is another.”

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked as the door to her cabin closed behind them.

“Honestly?” she asked. “Remember when I said everyone would be looking to me once the Reapers came? I was right. I have councilors, admirals, _everyone_ looking to me for answers. I’m just a commander and yet I’m now one of the most powerful people in the galaxy. Even the turian Primarch treats me like an equal. You’re the only one left in my chain of command. You’re the only one left who isn’t afraid to tell me what to do. I need you to remind me that I’m not in charge and that I’m not doing this alone.”

“I can do that,” he said. “Strip.” She did as he went to a drawer and began laying out supplies he'd placed in there months before. Her attention was primarily caught by the length of soft-looking rope. He picked it up first and gestured for her to turn her back to him. “Roll your shoulders back, hold your arms parallel, palms facing in,” he instructed. She complied and felt the rope slide across her skin. She’d expected pain. The caress of his hands and the rope and his breath and his heat against her skin was heady. The intensity of his focus on her was downright intoxicating. He tied her arms behind her back from shoulder to wrist before taking her by the hair and leading her to the bed. “Kneel low,” he said and she knelt back with her ass on her feet and her knees spread. 

This time, she was able to watch him while he worked. His hands moved fluidly and his attention never wavered as he secured her thighs to her calves, effectively locking her into position. Her shoulders were beginning to ache dully but it wasn’t painful…yet. The only movement she could make with her legs was to either open or close them and the way he’d tied them put pressure on her inner thighs if she tried to press them together. She was open and exposed and then he moved behind her and began to braid her hair. She figured out his purpose when a tug pulled her head back and she realized that he’d twined the rope into the plait and secured it to the one around her ankles. It forced her back to arch and held her in a position where he could see all of her but she couldn’t see him. 

She wasn’t accustomed to being so thoroughly restrained and the soldier in her began to come up with a thousand different scenarios that all ended with her throat being slit or her being helpless while he lay dying on the floor from an attack. Her adrenaline kicked in and her breathing quickened. He was immediately in front of her, kneeling up so that she could see him. “Easy, girl. You’re safe,” he said. “Extend your fingers. There’s a quick-release knot there that will release your head. Shrug your shoulders and press your arms together and the ones around them will fall. There are shears on the nightstand. You can get out in an emergency. Trust me, sweetheart.”

“I do, sir,” she said. “I just—”

“You’re a soldier in wartime,” he said. “I know. Let it go.”

She looked into his eyes and her tension faded. Of course he would never leave her defenseless. He knew her. He would know she needed an out. He kissed her and then lifted and turned her. The easy motion made her feel almost like a decoration to be moved at his whim. Here, she didn’t need to save the galaxy. Here, she served only to please him and that was such a simple thing to do. There was no pressure to do everything and be everything for everyone. All she had to do here was just be. She’d never been so restrained and yet she’d never felt so free. 

His mouth roamed over her jaw and down her exposed throat where a graze of his teeth sent a primal thrill racing through her. His hands stroked over her shoulders and down to her breasts which he held and leaned back to admire. She couldn’t see his hands and so the biting twist of her nipple was a shock. The hard bite against her shoulder was only slightly less so. He began to slap, bite, and scrape his nails over her in an almost rhythmic fashion but with complete randomness as to what he did where. She was unable to anticipate what was coming and so every mark was sharpened by her lack of knowledge. She couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t prepare herself. He was entirely in control over her body and she loved it. 

When she felt as though her skin was burning, he leaned forward and nipped her ear. “Trust me, girl?”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed. 

“I won’t harm you,” he promised and her eyes flew open. The blade was cold and sharp against the swell of her breast. She didn’t mind it at all. In fact, she’d loved it when Nihlus used his talons on her and this was very similar. However, she hadn’t expected it from Hackett. She had to stop underestimating him. 

He dragged the point of the blade down her sternum and the dull edge over her belly before slapping her ribs with the flat of it. The tip pressed into the lower curve of her breast before the edge slid lightly across it and she felt blood bead over her skin. His rough hand came up and cupped her breast, spreading it across her nipple. The cut wasn’t deep and she knew that her skin weave would have it closed in a matter of moments but it was carnal all the same. He knelt up so that he could look her in the eye and she felt his knuckles brush across her belly as his thumb continued to rub across her nipple. He was stroking himself, she realized and groaned as heat burst within her. He removed his hand from her and she felt the blade slice carefully across her ribcage, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His hand was slick with her blood as he ran it down her side and across her torso before flicking her clit with his thumb. 

She felt something cool and solid slide against her center and he ordered quietly, “Don’t move, girl.” 

She understood now why he’d made it difficult for her to close her legs as he slipped the hilt of the knife into her. As long as she obeyed and remained still, she wouldn’t be cut. Her breath came in ragged gasps and she felt her chest heave as she moaned and struggled not to writhe. “Oh, god, sir. Please,” she begged. She didn’t know what she wanted. She simply knew that she was on the edge of something and that he was telling her no once more. The demands of her body overcame the commands of her mind and she began to struggle against her bonds. The drive to find completion was consuming but she was held immobile and her struggles were ineffective. She knew how to get out but that would be cheating and would disappoint him. That didn’t stop her from straining against the ties until they bit into her skin. Every strand reminded her that she was not in charge here and that she did nothing but by his authority. Her grin as she fought against herself and he fucked her mercilessly with the hilt of the knife was strangely triumphant. 

He withdrew the weapon-turned-sex-toy from her and shoved her roughly onto her back. Her hair pulled hard as she angled her head forward and she welcomed the burn in her scalp and the strain in her muscles caused by the position. His teeth closed over her clit and she shouted his name in a high voice she didn’t recognize. He wasn’t gentle with her. He bit and sucked and scraped his beard across her sensitive skin until she was begging for release. Still he told her no. When he felt her muscles begin to tremble as her body took control and prepared to defy his wishes, he flipped her so that she was kneeling in front of him with her back to his front. A slice of the knife released her hair and he shoved her forward again. Her face hit the pillow with a muffled thump and she felt the rope scratch against the healing cut on her side. It reopened it and he groaned and wiped the fresh blood across her back before slapping her ass. She was sure it left a handprint. 

Something cool and wet dripped down between her cheeks and she felt his finger slide into her from behind. He made an approving sound as a second joined the first and then he withdrew and leaned over her. She felt his heavy cock against her hands and stroked it encouragingly with her fingers. “Remember when I told you I was going to claim your ass, girl?” he asked in a low rumble. Without waiting for a reply, he lined his cock up with her and began to press forward. Her breath hitched and she cried out as he stretched her slowly. He wrapped the short braid around his hand and tugged her head back to speak directly into her ear. “What do you think people would say if they knew that the great Commander Shepard liked to be tied up and fucked in the ass by her commanding officer? Do you think that they would believe that the mouth that has given speeches to rally troops against impossible odds is the same one that moans like a whore for me? Beg me, girl. That’s an order.”

It was a struggle to force words into coherency and his hand came down sharply on her ass, making it contract around his cock. “Oh, fuck!” she groaned into the pillow. “Please, Admiral, I need you. Please, sir!”

“Please what?” he demanded, thrusting deeper into her.

“Fuck me, sir. Fuck me harder. Oh, god, Admiral. Please fuck my ass harder,” she pleaded. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said and gripped her hips before drawing almost completely out and slamming back into her. He set a punishing pace but what she’d thought would be excruciating was instead exquisitely pleasurable. She lay helplessly below him as he pounded into her and loudly called his name into the pillow when he brought a hand around to rub against her clit. “Scream my name, girl,” he ordered. “I want the whole damn station to know who you belong to.”

She was certainly not a silent lover but she wasn’t a screamer, either. Screaming, to her, was an incredibly annoying high-pitched shriek that she equated death, weakness, or bad pornos. She didn’t think she was capable of making that sound if that was what he wanted. The sound of his name was certainly not a shriek; however, it was more than a shout, more than a cry, and clearly precisely what he wanted as she heard him groan, “Good girl. Come for me, sweetheart. Let me see you fall apart.” As always, she obeyed and he followed after her. 

When they’d recovered, he removed the bonds from her arms and checked the ones on her legs. Rather than releasing her, though, he gave her time to roll her shoulders and arms to restore feeling in them before pinning them above her head and tying her wrists to the headboard. His smile was predatory as he said, “What? You thought I was going to let you go that quickly? No. You’re mine tonight. The quarian meeting isn’t for five more days. We have time.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. 

He said, “And don't worry about interruptions. Vakarian is acting XO. He said to tell you to, ‘Blow off some steam, for spirits’ sake.’”

“Thank you, sir,” she said with a grin. That sounded like Garrus.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then leaned over to retrieve something from the nightstand. A telltale buzz was the only warning she got and before she could warn him, he placed the vibrator against her. This time, she did shriek and he watched in amazement as she tried to throw herself off of the side of the bed to escape the toy. His hand on her leg stopped her and her peals of helpless laughter echoed around the room. “Please! Please, sir! Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!” she yelled in a voice tightened by the involuntary clenching of her abdominal and throat muscles as her body tried to fold in on itself. Breathing was becoming difficult and she damned herself for forgetting to put this as one of her limits. She had been thinking, _things that could fuck me up, like thresher maw acid_ and not _shit that tickles like crazy_.

“Do I look like a merciful man, Shepard?” Hackett asked tortuously. There was a wicked sparkle in his eyes that told her that, while it may not be what he’d planned, he was enjoying her distress all the same. 

“N-no,” she replied.

“No, what?” he asked and turned the speed up on the toy.

“No, sir!” she corrected swiftly. “Please turn it off!”

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I do like seeing you laugh. They say it’s good for the soul. Think of it as medicine, girl.”

“I hate doctors!” she shouted.

“Why did you become a soldier, then?” he asked.

Her brain clearly wasn’t working correctly because she answered, “You!”

“Explain,” he ordered.

She could barely breathe. There was no way she was going to be able to form a coherent sentence. _This_ was the torture they should have used in her N training. She could take a beating. She could handle pain. This incessant tickling was driving her mad. She gasped, “I wanted…to be…closer…to you.”

“Interesting,” he mused and lowered the speed. It didn’t help. 

“Please, sir, make it stop!” she finally wailed. The buzzing immediately died and she lay back panting for breath. “I didn’t expect that to work,” she said when she could breathe again.

“I told you that all you had to do was tell me to stop,” he said. “I was wondering how long it would take you.”

She looked down her body and glared at herself. “Well, shit,” she muttered. “ _Now_ I go numb.” He threw back his head and laughed heartily. She watched him with a smile on her own face. He was so beautiful when he laughed like that. “I love you, sir,” she said without thinking.

He froze and stared at her, his laughter dying on his lips. “I love you, too, girl,” he finally said. He leaned forward and freed her hands before untying the ropes on her legs. When she was free, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I always have,” he added.


	19. Chapter 19

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Quarians  
If we didn’t need the quarian fleet so badly, I’d kill them myself.  
Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Quarians  
I…might have punched Admiral Gerrel and kicked him off my ship.  
Shepard

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Quarians  
I can’t even be angry with you. Are you all right?  
Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Re: Quarians  
Aside from almost getting spaced in the docking tube and again trying to get off the ship, almost falling to my death, almost getting shot by the geth cannon, and almost having my legs shot off? Because, really, sir, that’s becoming just a normal day for me.  
It was terrifying. I was all right after the first time. After the second time, though, poor Garrus had to hold me so tight my armor scratched his because I was shaking so hard. I am not okay with this. I’m ready to have these assholes off my ship. Tali’s the only one of the admiralty worth a damn.  
Shepard

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Not okay  
What do you need, girl?  
Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Not okay  
Nothing you can give me from light years away, sir.   
No. Scratch that. I need to hear your voice.  
Shepard

“Commander,” Traynor said. “You have an incoming vid comm from Admiral Hackett. Shall I patch it in to your cabin?”

“Yes. Put him through,” Shepard said. She took a seat at her desk and rolled the chair back so that she could see the screen. 

“Are you alone, Commander?” Hackett asked when he appeared.

“I am, sir,” she said. “Thank you. I feel…kind of stupid, I guess, asking you to stop what you’re doing and call me because I had a scare.”

“I’m here for you, girl,” he said. “Don’t ever hesitate to ask for what you need. I won’t always be able to give it to you but I can’t try unless you ask.”

She leaned her head back and said, “I’m so tired, sir. This war is just one thing after another. Just once, I would like to go to someone for help and have them say, ‘Sure, we’ll join in the effort to keep the entire galaxy from being wiped out. No strings attached.’ I mean…damn it, these are the very people we’re trying to save! The Reapers are on Rannoch! Do they honestly still think this war doesn’t affect them? I have a lot of problems with humanity and the way we act but we’re the only ones who’ve come forward and tried to work together without requiring a cure to the genophage or sabotaging said cure or an end to the war with the geth or whatever the hell the asari are going to come up with when they finally get their asses in gear. 

“It’s a really sad day when the _rachni_ are the easiest to get into an alliance. All I had to do was help her escape the Reapers trap that she was in. Hell, even the mercenaries and the batarians were easier than the Council races. I talked the batarians into it and I’m the one who blew up their system! To get the mercs, I talked to a few people, shot a couple of guys, and smuggled a single artifact. It took an hour outside of actually finding the thing the guy wanted. The scum of the galaxy and I got them on our side within an hour. And yet I have to end a centuries-old war to get people who should have volunteered. That’s what pisses me off, sir. They all should have volunteered. They can’t possibly think they can win this on their own.”

“I can’t disagree with you, Shepard,” he said. “Never thought we’d be getting in bed with Aria T’Loak but she’s come through.”

“Everyone looks down on Aria like they’re better than she is but she’s the only person who’s come to me and said, ‘Let me help.’ She’s ten times the person that Tevos will ever be,” Shepard said. She rubbed her face. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t ask you to call just so I could bitch.”

He shifted and crossed his arms before saying, “Who do you talk to when it gets hard? Who’s there for you on that ship?”

“Garrus,” she said instantly. “But he’s under so much pressure from the Primarch right now that I feel guilty for adding to it. Liara tries but she’s so…I don’t know. I feel like I have to hold her up. I can’t tell her I’m struggling, too.”

“You can’t let your people see you really stumble because you’re their rock,” he said. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“Who holds you up, sir?” she asked.

“You do,” he said. “Knowing that I’m helping to carry the person who’s carrying us all gives me purpose. The fact that you won’t break if I need to lean back on occasion is a definite bonus. You’re one of my people but you’re also my partner. That means we can lean on each other. So if you just need to vent, you can do that.”

“It was too close, sir,” she admitted. “The hull breaches, the explosions, the ship shaking apart around us as we were fired on, Rannoch hanging there like Alchera, and feeling myself lose that last point of contact with solid ground and seeing nothing but emptiness in front of me…” She shuddered. “I just kept thinking, ‘Not again. Not like this.’ I’m not afraid to die, sir. Death, it’s just…it’s like being asleep. I am afraid of dying like that. Not being able to breathe. Being killed by the place I love the most. That’s what I fear.”

He leaned forward and looked at her through the vid screen. “I love you, girl. If I could get away, I’d be there as fast as a ship could carry me. I don’t like seeing you hurting and being helpless to do anything about it.”

She smiled and said, “I think I just needed to hear that.”

“Well, hell, if it’s that easy to make you smile again, I’ll say it as often as you want,” he said with a chuckle.

“I love you, too, sir. Thank you,” she said.

“Any time, girl. Good luck on Rannoch. Try not to kill the admirals. We really do need their ships,” he said.

“I will be the epitome of self-control, sir,” she promised. “Who knows, maybe I’ll get to kill another Reaper.”

He leaned back and shook his head. “Let’s hope you don’t have to get that close to another one.”

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Killing Reapers  
When will I learn not to joke about these things? However… Commander Shepard: 4. Reapers: 0.  
Shepard

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Killing Reapers  
Your commanding officer can’t say this but your boyfriend can. Never do that again. What the hell were you thinking?  
Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Killing Reapers  
I was thinking that if we didn’t do it then, it wouldn’t get done. I was thinking that I’m tired of running. And I was thinking that the last thing we need are indoctrinated geth helping the Reapers again.  
I know you were scared for me, sir. I was, too, but I’m all right.  
Shepard

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Scared  
Scared doesn’t cover it. You took ten years off of my life with that stunt. Even your luck won’t hold forever, girl, and I’m not ready to lose you yet. Did you get my order for shore leave?  
Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Shore leave  
I did, sir. Now that we’re finished on Rannoch, we’re on our way. Tevos wants to talk to me anyway. Maybe they’ve finally pulled their heads out of their asses.   
You won’t lose me yet, sir.  
Shepard

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Shore leave  
I damn well better not.   
I meant to ask before, where did you get that chess set in your cabin? I thought you hate chess.  
Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Chess   
I said I was terrible at it. Traynor's been giving me lessons. I'm getting better. As to where I got it, it was General Petrovsky's. I kept it. It made me think of you.  
Shepard

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Chess  
How so?  
Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Chess  
Chess always makes me think of you, sir. Think about it. You’re the one in the back coordinating everything. You can fight but we need you at the rear more than we need you on the field. If we lose you, we lose the war. You're the king. I'm out there flying all over the board doing battle. Right now, I'm the most powerful soldier on the field and part of my job is to protect you even as you lead. I'm the queen. Sam pointed it out the first time she and I played. Once I started looking at it that way, I got better.  
Shepard

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** King and queen?   
I can see that. You certainly don't bow to anyone else.  
Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: King and queen?  
Only you, sir. I’ll see you soon.  
Shepard


	20. Chapter 20

“‘Take shore leave,’ he said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ he said,” Shepard grumbled as she leapt across a set of rooftops in an area of the Strip she’d never seen before. She was supposed to be pretending to enjoy a week of forced downtime. Instead, she’d gotten shot at by mercs, fallen through a fish tank, shot at by more mercs, and she hadn’t even gotten to eat her dinner. Ryuushi was her favorite sushi place in the galaxy. It was Hackett’s and her place. Those assholes just waltzed in like they owned it and shot it up. She might never get to eat sushi there again. The galaxy could end without her getting to have one last order of salmon nigiri or glass of real sake imported all the way from Earth. The place served real, wild caught salmon. _Wild caught_. Wild salmon was insanely hard to come by even on Earth and the farm raised stuff just didn’t cut it. Needless to say, Shepard was pissed. 

It didn’t help her temper to realize that she was out of thermal clips and did not have her sniper rifle. Fighting men in full armor up close while in a dress and heels was not going to be fun. This was going to have to be very carefully done. She slid down the ladder and crouched behind a kiosk where she evaluated her options. She needed to get the mercs together in the same place, not on either side of the alley. They had shields but she could sabotage their weapons and a plasma ball would take them down. If she could fabricate some sticky grenades, she could lay a trap for them and lure them in. She cloaked and began laying her trap. When she was ready, she let the cloak fall and caught their attention. They ran forward and she followed the explosion with a fireball. She'd just rolled back into cover when a familiar voice came over the comm.

“Shepard, you there?” Hackett asked.

“I’m here, sir,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“I hear you’re in some trouble,” he said.

“I’ve been in worse spots,” she said. “Not many, but Elysium comes to mind. What are you doing here?”

“Officially?” he asked. “Talking to the Council. Udina needs a replacement. Unofficially, what the hell do you think, girl? I’m on my way.”

She’d gotten thermal clips from the mercs and so had a slightly easier time getting to the skycar lot than she’d had previously. When a sniper round zipped past her ear, she rolled her eyes. They might be heavily shielded but they were still mercs. It was almost insulting to be targeted by a sniper that bad. If she had her Black Widow, she'd have cut through all of these assholes already. Garrus would have killed her three times by now and Thane would have had her dead before the fish tank debacle. Still, she was exhausted, in pain, and never more grateful to see anyone by the time Hackett—dressed in full armor and carrying an assault rifle, no less—leapt across a sky car and took out a pair of mercs before they could raise their weapons. Damn, he was sexy. 

He knew, it, too. His walk was as cocky as his grin when he said, “Sounds like you’re having a hell of a day, girl.”

“I am very glad to see you, sir,” she said. 

“Nice dress,” he said appreciatively, eyeing her up and down. She cocked a brow at him. It was a terrible dress and she looked…well, she looked like she’d fallen through a fish tank. She should have expected him to have something to say to that. “I thought you liked our sushi place,” he said as they looked for the control for the doors. 

“Can we talk about that later, sir?” she asked.

He ignored her and said, “If you didn’t like it, you could have said something and I wouldn’t have taken you. You didn’t have to ruin it for the rest of us. I do live here, you know.”

“Sir, can we please talk about it later?” she said again. From his grin, she guessed that he was already planning some creative ‘punishments’ for her once they were safe. She was looking forward to it. He stopped her before they left the lot and insisted on applying medigel to her wounds. It didn’t entirely fix her up but it did seal the gashes left by the glass and make her sprained ankle stop throbbing. Her ribs continued to grind against each other, though. That was going to take an injection and possibly some help from Dr. Chakwas. It was still enough to allow her to move more freely which ended up being a good thing when the C-Sec shuttle turned out to be full of mercenaries and she had to pull him out of the line of fire. Fortunately, James showed up in the nick of time and with a rocket launcher no less. Gotta love marines with a fetish for heavy weapons.

She’d never seen Hackett actually fight. Over the next several minutes while waiting for Joker to arrive, she got to witness firsthand the reason why he was so highly decorated. He might have spent years behind a desk but he hadn’t forgotten the skills that had gotten him there. After he mowed down a row of mercs in less time than it took her to take down a pair of them, she shouted, “Admiral, you ever get tired of that ivory tower, let me know. You’ve got a guaranteed spot on my ground team any day!”

“I’ll take that under advisement, Commander,” he said with a grin. “Duck.”

“Goose,” she replied as she threw herself to the ground and bullets flew over her head to slam into the merc who’d tried to flank her. She shot through a group dropping from the ceiling and they landed in a heap.

“You’re in a fine mood, Lola,” James commented. “Fighting mercs seems to agree with you. Or maybe it’s just the company.”

“James,” she chided.

“What?” he asked innocently. “Fighting alongside one James Vega would make anyone happy.”

“Uh huh,” she said. “On your six, Admiral!”

“I’ve got it,” Hackett said in a tone that let her know he’d already been aware of them. He spun and fired before leaping over a low wall and punching another merc in the throat. She threw out a fireball at a few that had been stupid enough to bunch together and Hackett shot them down. 

She was almost disappointed when the shuttle arrived to extract them. However, it turned out that he already had a ticket to the party she had to attend. When the team asked who was going to get to be her date, she grinned at Hackett and said, “Admiral, I understand you already have the required attire?”

“I do,” he said mildly. 

“What could be less suspicious than Admiral Hackett and Commander Shepard attending a charity event to aid in the war effort while very clearly on shore leave?” she asked innocently.

“It makes perfect sense to me,” he said. “We are, after all, leading the war effort. It would be unseemly of us not to attend.”

Hackett looked damn good in dress blues. He looked sexy as hell in armor. He looked downright handsome in a tux. He held his arm out for her and she said under her breath, “I am going to have a very hard time keeping my hands off of you, sir.”

“You look absolutely breathtaking, girl,” he said. 

It was almost easy to forget that this was a working date. Hackett laid on the charm and took full advantage of the opportunity to do something that normal couples took for granted and which they might not get to do again. The truth of the matter was that she’d gotten used to the fact that people wanted her dead and she spent every day of her life with that risk hanging over her. A group of strange mercenaries after her for an unknown reason was a curiosity but it wasn’t something that had her actively worried. She’d survived Reapers, Collectors, Saren, and Cerberus. CAT6 did not frighten her. Brooks’ interruptions merely added entertainment value when Hackett had to go and attempt to distract the guards. The excuses he came up with were smooth but entertaining, especially when he asked one if they could give him advice on keeping up with a younger woman. She almost snorted with laughter and drew attention to herself on that one. He had no problem keeping up with her.

When he pulled her onto the dance floor, she sighed a little but went willingly enough. He didn’t put her on his feet this time but the memory made her smile. “Doesn’t have quite the ambiance of crickets and the breeze sifting through the grass, does it?” she asked.

“I don’t give a damn where we are, girl,” he said. “But you’re right. I don’t think you’ve ever looked as beautiful as you did that night in nothing but moonlight and firefly glow. If I hadn’t already been lost to you, it would have happened then.”

“You always seem to know exactly what I need when I need it,” she said. “You’ve always been there when I’ve been in the tightest spots.”

“Not always,” he countered. 

“You’ve been there enough,” she said. 

By the time they got back to her apartment with the host dead and the data they needed, Shepard was on the verge of dragging Hackett into a dark corner and having her way with him. The heat in his eyes told her he was thinking the same thing. When his omni-tool pinged as they were walking into the apartment, he cursed. “It is the middle of the damn night cycle. What the hell could the Council want now?”

“You haven’t worked with many turians or salarians, have you, sir?” she asked. “They don’t sleep much and Tevos is a workaholic.”

“Damned inconvenient is what they are,” he said. “I don’t like this situation, Shepard. Something’s been nagging at me and I’ve been trying to figure out what it is. I don’t trust Brooks. There’s something off about her.”

“She’s scared to death of you,” Shepard said dismissively.

“It isn’t just that. I’ve been working with soldiers for most of my life and I’m telling you she isn’t what she seems, Shepard,” he said. 

“I’ll keep an eye on her, sir,” she assured him. Brooks seemed genuine if a little flighty but Shepard trusted his judgment. “You should go. The Council will have already started without you. If you’re late, you’ll miss the whole thing. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Be careful, girl,” he said and leaned down to kiss her. 

When he left, Tali said, “Shepard! You and Admiral Hackett? When did that happen?”

“During the Collector mission,” Shepard said nonchalantly. 

“What?” Tali exclaimed. “You never said a word.”

“They do have a history,” Liara said. “He rescued her from Mindoir and was there after Elysium as well. Admiral Hackett is the one who pinned her with the Star of Terra. She’s known him for all of her adult life.”

“That’s really romantic, Commander,” Brooks said. “But what about regulations? I mean, I’m not going to say anything, of course. But there are rules. I don’t care. Other people might, though. Aren’t you worried someone might object?”

Shepard shrugged. If he wasn’t worried about it then she wasn’t going to be, either. “What are they going to do?” she asked, echoing his earlier response. “Court-martial us? There is no Defense Committee. There is no Parliament. We don’t even have an ambassador or a councilor anymore. Who are they going to report us to? We’d disclose it but there’s no one above him to do so. INA isn’t going to care as long as it’s consensual unless they think I’m receiving special treatment because of it and I can assure you he’ll chew my ass just as quickly as anyone’s if I screw up. I haven’t received a promotion or a pay raise or any commendations because of it. There’s nothing unethical going on and the relationship began while I was out of the military; therefore, it predates my service and doesn’t technically qualify as fraternization.” 

She’d looked it up after visiting him on Project Crucible. Soldiers who had a pre-existing relationship couldn’t be penalized for continuing it if the civilian partner enlisted or commissioned. Since she hadn’t been reinstated until after their relationship had begun, it fell under that exception. Had it not been for Hackett’s earlier warning, she wouldn’t have felt the need to clarify that point. Internal Naval Affairs was really the only group left who had any authority to do anything about it and, unless one of them made it an issue, they didn’t have a leg to stand on. 

“Oh. Okay,” Brooks said. “That’s good, then.”

“It is romantic,” Tali said. “Your relationship could be straight out of a vid, Shepard. The handsome Alliance officer and the innocent colony girl he rescues who goes on to save the galaxy.”

“She did a pretty good job of saving herself,” Liara said. “She took down quite a few of the slavers herself and had gotten out of the town when he found her.”

“How do you know that?” Garrus asked.

“She saw it when we mind melded,” Shepard said. 

“If you’d rather not talk about it…” Liara said.

“It’s all right,” Shepard told her. She hadn’t told anything that wasn’t already public record if you looked hard enough. She’d been featured on the news once or twice after the raid and again after resolving the situation with Talitha. If Liara started talking about her mom, she would probably have an issue. No one but Hackett and Liara knew that particular detail. Still, she was grateful when EDI and Brooks announced that they’d found something. 

\---

Shepard made a mental note to tell Hackett he was right as she watched Brooks’ body being hauled away. Traitorous bitch. Once she was gone and the rest of the bodies had been removed from the ship, Shepard dragged the bin with her things into the elevator. Poor Odysseus. Garrus and EDI hadn’t seemed to understand her distress upon finding him in the trash but the little guy had been through so much. His world had shattered when they’d gone through the Omega 4 relay and he’d had to survive on his own for almost nine months before she’d found him down in Jack’s hidey-hole. He hadn’t been underweight, so he’d obviously done well for himself but it couldn’t have been easy for him. There wasn’t much in the way of loose food on a warship, especially one undergoing retrofits and not actually staffed. It made her feel better to get him settled on his shelf. 

She was exhausted but she couldn’t rest until she’d set her cabin back to rights. It infuriated her that her space had been invaded like this. Her fish, at least, were all right and she restocked the VI while she was thinking about it. Her model ships, chess board, helmet, and dog tags went back into their places. The damn clone hadn’t even bothered to make the bed. The sight of the rumpled sheets made her angrier, so she stripped them off and threw them into the laundry chute and remade the bed with fresh linens. Having a properly made bed was something that had been drilled into her from day one of basic training and it was especially important on a warship where crew often had to hotbunk. Leaving a messy bed for the next person was just insulting. 

She was tempted to just lie down there but the crew was waiting for her. They’d agreed to rendezvous at her apartment. The trip through the archives and the fight on board the _Normandy_ had taken all night and the artificial sunlight had resumed. She tried to remember the last time she’d slept and she realized it was the night before they’d reached the Citadel. They’d been running almost constantly ever since. Exhaustion pressed down on her. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed beside Hackett and sleep all day. He’d be up, though, and probably working. She decided to send him a message, take a nap, and then see if he wanted to meet up for dinner. He was a busy man even on shore leave and she’d taken up a lot of his time since he’d been here. She could wait until tonight to see him.

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** I’m alive  
You’re never going to believe what happened, sir. Hell, I barely believe it myself. You were right about Brooks. Going to bed. Dinner tonight?  
Shepard

He didn’t respond and she fell asleep waiting for the answering ping. He was probably busy.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of non-con; mild description of dub-con.

He still hadn’t responded when Shepard woke several hours later. Her crew was scattered across the apartment and were all still sleeping so she decided to go next door and see if Hackett was home. He’d given her the door code almost a year before but when she entered it, the lock stayed red. That was odd. She must have been more tired than she thought. She tried again. It stayed red. He must have changed it and forgotten to give her the new one or decided she didn’t need it since she had her own place now. She pressed the buzzer instead and waited. He didn’t answer. Perhaps the Council had called him in again. She went back to her own apartment and found Vega in the kitchen making eggs.

When he still hadn’t answered her after she’d eaten breakfast with the crew, indulged EDI with a shopping spree, and had Liara teach her a song on the piano, she began to worry. She wouldn’t have thought twice about it had he been on Arcturus or back at Project Crucible but he was on shore leave and she knew he’d been worried about her. He should have at least acknowledged her message by now. She sent him another asking if he was all right and immediately regretted it. There was every chance that he was stuck in meetings. Liara noticed her agitation and looked up from her spot on the couch where she was working on something. “What’s wrong, Shepard?”

“I’m probably being ridiculous,” Shepard said. “I don’t know how this whole relationship thing is supposed to work. I sent a message to Hackett this morning and he hasn’t replied. That isn’t like him, especially when he’s worried. I told him I was all right but he still usually wants to see for himself. He’s probably in meetings or something. I’m just still on edge from the whole clone thing.”

“Give me a moment,” Liara said. She began to work quickly and a few minutes later, Shepard saw her brow furrow. Liara looked up at her and said, “He’s not here. He went back to the Crucible early this morning while we were still dealing with the clone.”

“Was there an emergency?” Shepard asked. “Did something happen to the Crucible? Did Cerberus or the Reapers find it?”

“No,” Liara said. “Everything appears to be business as usual.”

“I don’t understand,” Shepard said. “He wouldn’t just leave without a word unless it was an emergency. We were supposed to meet up today.” She remembered finding Samantha in the airlock and said, “Oh, no. No, no, no. That _bitch_!”

“What?” Liara asked.

“She broke up with him,” Shepard said. “She fired Sam and the rest of the crew. She threw out my hamster and my things. She was clearing my life out. Brooks even commented on Hackett and me. She would have told the clone. Damn it. I need to call him.”

“I can leave if you’d like,” Liara offered.

“No,” Shepard said, waving her back to her seat. “It’s just a misunderstanding. I just need to explain it to him. I might need you to confirm it for me, though. I don’t know if I’d believe it if he came to me with this story.” She activated the vid comm on her omni-tool while she talked and then paced the room as she waited for him to answer. He denied the call. “Shit,” she muttered. 

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** We need to talk. It’s not what you think.  
Sir, it has recently come to my attention that Cerberus created a clone of me when they put me back together. Remember the person who said they were going to take everything I have and everything I am? Well, that was her. She tried to take over my life. She even went into the archives and swapped our handprints. She tried to steal the _Normandy_ and discharge Traynor for conduct unbecoming of an Alliance officer. (Do I even have the authority to do that?) I’m afraid that she decided to get rid of you as well. I understand that you’ve left the Citadel. Please call me, sir, and let me explain.  
I love you.  
Shepard 

**TO:** cdr.shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** adm.hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Clone  
Have your report on the clone situation to me within the next solar day, Commander.  
Admiral Hackett

**TO:** adm.hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** cdr.shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Clone  
Yes, sir. I’ll have it to you within the hour.  
Commander Shepard

 

**TO:** cdr.shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** maj.phillips@allianceina.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Report filed against Admiral Steven Hackett  
Commander,  
We have received the report you filed against Admiral Hackett. These are very serious allegations and will be treated as such. Rest assured that this matter is under investigation. Due to the ongoing strain on resources, resolution may take some time; however, the evidence you provided will certainly be helpful. I will be your point of contact for this issue. Additionally, we will remove you from Admiral Hackett’s command as soon as we are able to identify who, exactly, would be your next superior. I believe it will be Admiral Anderson. If you have any objection to this because of their personal friendship, please let me know and I will make other accommodations.  
The Alliance takes the safety and security of our soldiers very seriously and we will do everything in our power to ensure that you are not faced with a hostile work environment. We appreciate everything that you are doing for us, Commander Shepard, and will make this situation a top priority.  
Major Alice Phillips  
Department of Internal Naval Affairs

**TO:** maj.phillips@allianceina.xnet  
**FROM:** cdr.shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Report filed against Admiral Steven Hackett  
Major Phillips,  
I am afraid that there has been a misunderstanding. I have filed no report against Admiral Hackett and have no complaint against him. Our relationship is entirely consensual and he has never committed any abuse of power against me. I am forwarding the report on the individual who made these claims. I assure you that the situation has been resolved. Please cease and desist any investigation into the admiral that is being made on my behalf.  
I apologize for the inconvenience.  
Commander Shepard

**TO:** cdr.shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** maj.phillips@allianceina.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Report filed against Admiral Steven Hackett  
Commander,  
I have reviewed the information you provided. Per your request, I have attached the report that was filed against the admiral in your name in addition to the evidence that was given to us.  
I must say that I don’t believe that I’ve ever had anyone go to these lengths in an attempt to rescind a complaint. You need not fear retaliation nor reprisal for coming to us. Our investigation will continue until we can ensure that you are not operating under duress. I understand that the _Normandy_ is currently in dry dock and am traveling to the Citadel in order to discuss this matter in person. Please provide me with a time to meet that will be convenient for you.  
Major Alice Phillips  
Department of Naval Internal Affairs

**TO:** maj.phillips@allianceina.xnet  
**FROM:** cdr.shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Re: Report filed against Admiral Steven Hackett  
Major,  
I can assure you that I am not operating under duress. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with me or not but I can promise you that I am perfectly willing and capable of handling any problem that could arise between the admiral and myself. I do not need help from INA or anyone else. However, if it will ease your mind and end this ridiculous farce, I will meet with you tomorrow at 1300 in Councilor Udina’s office.  
Commander Shepard 

 

**TO:** adm.hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** cdr.shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Clone  
Admiral,  
I have an appointment with Major Phillips with INA tomorrow at 1300. I have already advised her of the misunderstanding and will provide confirmation to her when we meet in person. Please find the report attached.  
Commander Shepard

 

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Can we talk now?  
Can we please talk about this now, sir? Major Phillips sent me the complaint and the vids and the messages the damn clone gave her. I haven’t watched them yet but they have to be doctored. I’m going to get the originals from EDI.  
I know you didn’t sign up for this and this is probably the worst time to have INA breathing down your neck but I’m going to take care of it.  
Shepard

**TO:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**FROM:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Can we talk now?  
No, Commander. There is nothing more to say. Do not contact me via this address again. In the future, we will maintain a professional distance. Our prior relationship is over. I am your superior officer and nothing more.  
Admiral Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Re: Re: Can we talk now?  
Is this a joke, sir? You can’t possibly be serious.  
Shepard

[message returned: recipient unavailable; sender blocked]

 

Shepard looked up at Liara in horror. “He blocked me.”

“What do you mean, he blocked you?” Liara asked.

“He blocked the address we’d used for our private conversations,” Shepard said. “I’ll send it to your omni-tool. You might not want to watch the vids. I would appreciate it if you didn’t watch the vids. You can read the messages, though.” 

She forwarded the messages to Liara and opened the report. The clone claimed that Hackett had used his status to coerce her into a sexual relationship as the cost of her reinstatement into the Alliance. She said that he’d forced her to go to Aratoht to rescue his ex-wife and that he’d abused her when she’d attempted to make him leave afterward. She even went so far as to say that he’d known Kenson was indoctrinated and had been aware of her plans to blow up the relay and had set Shepard up to take the fall. She proceeded to tell them that he had raped and beaten her on multiple occasions and that all of her attempts to separate from him had failed. She made him sound like a stalker and abuser and when Shepard went into the other room to view the vids, she had to stop once to regain control over herself.

The clone had taken recordings from EDI and had doctored them to make it look like the things they had done together had been against her will. She’d taken out all of the communication and aftercare they’d shared and had left only the rough sex and play they’d done. She had taken something beautiful between them and contorted it into something ugly. If Hackett had seen these…the thought made her sick. Taken out of context, it looked abusive. The knife play, which she’d loved, was especially damning and appeared truly sadistic when twisted this way. 

She almost couldn’t bring herself to watch the final vid as it came after the last time that the two of them were together on the _Normandy_. She forced herself to do it, though, because she needed to see what the clone had done to him. She stopped before it was finished and ran into the bathroom to empty her stomach. They had discussed some edgier forms of play and delving into consensual non-consent. Shepard had liked the idea of a predatory Hackett taking her during a power struggle. This was nothing like what they’d discussed. The angle of the vid hid his face and the clone was a consummate actress. The audio faded in and out and most of what Hackett said was garbled while the clone’s screams and protests came through perfectly. She never once said stop. Don’t, no, why, get out, don’t touch me, all of that was used. Stop was not. She struggled through the remainder of the vid, simultaneously feeling like she was viewing her own assault and like she was watching her lover with another woman. 

When it was over, she contacted EDI and asked her to return to the apartment. When she arrived, Shepard had her access the feed from her cabin through the shore leave. EDI found the footage and she and Shepard went upstairs to the bedroom where EDI sent the vid to the screen on the wall. Shepard wasn’t sure that she wanted to see this in this room but she also knew that she didn’t want anyone else to see it. She had few secrets from Liara and even less that she was unwilling to share with her but having her best friend watch her—or even just someone who looked like her—have sex with her boyfriend was too personal. EDI was everywhere. She’d already seen it all and had proven to be quite discreet and entirely non-judgmental. 

Hackett entered the cabin and the clone greeted him at the door. She told him that Brooks had been behind the entire thing and that the situation was resolved. She then proceeded to request a CNC scene and Hackett actually resisted the idea at first. She was tenacious, though, and eventually told him that she needed it. He had never refused her under those circumstances and he replied with his standard, “I can do that.” 

The garbled words from the clone’s vid were his pauses to check in because he was clearly uncomfortable with the situation. The clone finally snapped something about not having told him to stop and told him that he was ruining the mood. He must have thought the attitude was part of the scene because he shrugged his shoulders and continued. 

When it was over, he tried to hold her. She pushed him away, called him a rapist, and told him that she never wanted to see him again. When he tried to reason with her, she threatened to call C-Sec and demanded, “What part of ‘We’re over’ don’t you understand, old man?” He stormed out of the cabin wearing a look of hurt and confusion that broke her heart. EDI changed the view to the elevator and it showed him leaning up against the wall with his forearm over his bowed head. He looked more broken than she had ever imagined. It took a visible effort for him to pull himself together before the doors opened.

“Why didn’t you tell him it wasn’t me?” Shepard asked. “Why didn’t you tell me it had happened?”

“This feed is timestamped while we were locked in the vault,” EDI said. “If you recall, the clone blocked our communication with the _Normandy_ while we were in the archives and I was not able to regain it until we were released from the vault. It was severed completely shortly thereafter. I was not able to monitor activity aboard the ship at that time. My cameras were active and recording but because the situation had been resolved, I was not aware of the need to review the feed from them until you requested that I do so. I am…sorry, Shepard. I generally refrain from actively monitoring your cabin unless you specifically ask. You have stated in the past that you have no privacy and that seemed to distress you. I altered my monitoring protocols to accommodate.”

“I’m not blaming you, EDI,” Shepard said miserably. “I just…I can’t believe she did that. She violated him and the whole time he thought it was me. It’s no wonder he can’t even stand to talk to me. Thank you for getting that to me. I need copies of the original feeds from all of these events sent to my omni-tool.”

**TO:** adm.hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** cdr.shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Clone situation  
I saw the vids, both the doctored and original ones. I am so sorry. The things she said were the farthest things from the truth. She lied, sir.  
Shepard

**TO:** adm.hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** cdr.shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** INA  
Admiral,  
I met with Major Phillips with INA today. She has reviewed the evidence and agreed to drop the investigation. Fortunately, Commander Bailey had not yet destroyed the clone’s body and I was able to show it to her.  
I also met with Councilor Tevos. We are going to Thessia as soon as the _Normandy_ is released from dry dock.  
Shepard

**TO:** cdr.shepard@ssvnormandy.xnet  
**FROM:** adm.hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** RE: INA  
Commander,  
Thank you for your discretion in this matter and your willingness to seek prompt resolution. I apologize for any discomfort it may have caused you.  
Keep me apprised of the Thessia situation. The _Normandy_ is cleared for duty.  
Admiral Hackett

**TO:** s.hackett@kilimanjaro.xnet  
**FROM:** shepard@normandy.xnet  
**SUBJECT:** Resolution  
Now can we talk about this?  
Shepard

[message returned: recipient unavailable; sender blocked]


	22. Chapter 22

It was over. They were really over. Hackett wouldn’t reply to her messages unless they were strictly professional. Anderson was the one who debriefed her on Thessia. Hackett was not available on vid comm. Her requests were denied. After Thessia, she went so far as to submit a request to be allowed to dock at the Crucible. It was denied as well. If she tried, the _Normandy_ would be shot down. There was nothing she could do but respect his decision, so she quit trying. She ate to fuel herself, slept standing against bulkheads and lying on her couch, and she threw herself into battle. 

Thessia was devastating. Seeing Earth and Palaven under siege had been difficult but the humans and turians had been able to fight back. Hackett and Anderson had prepared Earth. Garrus’ team had prepared Palaven. No one had prepared Thessia. The asari had denied the threat until the bitter end and Shepard stood with Liara and Javik and listened helplessly to the screams of the dying as the planet fell to the Reapers. She’d lost. She’d failed. She should have been prepared. She should have anticipated that Cerberus would interfere. She’d never felt so defeated nor so alone. 

She found Tali in the lounge after the Horizon mission. Miranda was dead. Shepard listened to Tali’s grief and slid into the seat beside her. Tali passed out and Shepard went to the window with her drink and her sorrow. She thought that maybe the quarian had the right idea. They were returning to the Citadel for a final shore leave before assaulting the Illusive Man’s base. Everyone needed a break. They couldn’t go into the final battles with their spirits this low. There was nothing more that she could do until they hit Cerberus. The fleets were gathered. The Crucible was as complete as it could get without the Catalyst. She had no battles to fight, no politicians to sway, no admiral to turn to in her darkest hour. 

She wondered if she was getting a glimpse into her life after the war if she survived it. It felt empty. The Reapers had consumed her for years. Without them, she was unnecessary. The galaxy was united. The lesser wars were over. The batarians—one of the largest threats outside of war—were all but gone. There would still be mercs and pirates and bad people but those were not things that necessitated her special set of skills. She supposed she could continue as a Spectre but what was the point when the worst enemies she’d have to face were ones that could be taken down by a standard military team?

She had no future in the Alliance. That was clear. She’d only been reinstated because the Reapers were invaded and she was the only one who had any clue what she was doing. She had saved the Citadel and been sent to the Terminus with a pat on the back while Alenko was promoted. She had stopped the Collectors and delayed the invasion for long enough to give the Alliance time to prepare and she was court-martialed and called a traitor. The way things were going now, she’d be lucky not to face a firing squad in the name of peace with the krogan when it came out that she’d sabotaged the genophage. Her career had ground to a halt. She couldn’t continue to work under Hackett like this. Even without the other complications, after becoming a Spectre leading an intergalactic fleet, she didn’t know if she could go back to fighting for one single race.

She supposed she could go to Omega and get a job as Aria’s personal troubleshooter. It would pay decently and Aria would at least give her the courtesy of shooting her from the front when she was done with her. She briefly considered the Council position but discarded the idea. She was no politician. She could always get Liara to hire her as an information broker or as head of her operatives. She remembered the dossier on Zaeed and his list of retirement plans. Maybe she should just ask for a seat on his trip to Omega. At the moment, it sounded like the best option for her as well. Real retirement would drive her insane. 

Getting drunk wasn’t easy with her metabolism courtesy of Cerberus but she eventually managed it with the help of some ryncol. Liara came in when she was on her fourth glass and took a seat beside her. They sat in silence for a while until Shepard said, “Sometimes I wish you’d never given me to Cerberus.”

“Do you want me to apologize?” Liara asked.

“No,” Shepard said. “You did what you thought was right. Who knows what the Collectors would have done with me. I could be part Reaper by now. So I guess I’m glad you did it. You okay?”

“I’m talking to Javik about writing a book,” Liara said. “You know, once the war is over. If it ever is.”

Shepard leaned her head back against the couch and said, “It’ll end. Everything does. I’m going to resign from the Alliance.”

Liara looked at her and said, “But the Alliance is your life.”

“No,” Shepard corrected, “the _Normandy_ is my life. They can’t take that away. Maybe Jacob was right. Maybe she is my first love. I wonder if Jack still wants to turn pirate. I’d make a good pirate.”

“You would make a _terrible_ pirate,” Liara laughed. 

“Well, shit,” Shepard said, swirling the liquid in her glass. “There goes my retirement plan. Guess it’s Omega with Zaeed after all.”

 

**TO:** adm.hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
 **FROM:** dr.t’soni@ssvnormandy.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Crucible  
Admiral,   
I do not normally take it upon myself to interfere in the private lives of my friends. However, I believe that you are making a grave mistake and that Shepard is the one who is paying for it. I am concerned for her. She has lost hope. She hides it well but she has given up on any hope of a future. She is not responsible for the actions of an individual whose only resemblance to her was purely physical. Punishing her for the wrongs committed against you is petty, selfish, and childish.   
There is a recurring pattern of inaction on your part where she is concerned. You have allowed the injustices that she has suffered to occur when a word from you could have prevented it. After everything that she has survived, after giving everything—including her life—for the galaxy, and standing strong through all of it, you have finally managed to break her. Congratulations, Admiral. I hope you sleep well at night. She doesn’t.  
Dr. Liara T’Soni

**TO:** dr.t’soni@ssvnormandy.xnet  
 **FROM:** adm.hackett@ssvkilimanjaro.xnet  
 **SUBJECT:** Re: Crucible (Clever, by the way)  
Dr. T'Soni,  
I can only assume that she has not informed you of what I have done to her. If she had, you would not be so quick to intervene in this matter. Shepard is strong. She will persevere.   
I have nothing more to say on the matter. The next time that you use the Crucible to get through to me, it had better actually be about the Crucible. I have a war to run.  
Hackett

 

Her crew came together for her as they had with the clone incident. No one but Liara and EDI knew what had happened between herself and Hackett. She didn’t talk about it and they didn’t pry. However, they noted the change in her outlook, the emptiness in her eyes, the sag of her shoulders as if the weight of the galaxy pressing down on her had finally become too much for her to bear. Samantha noted the sudden shift in communications from Hackett to Anderson and put the pieces together. She’d lost her anchor and now she was adrift. She did her job as well as before. Her focus during battle and on the war effort never wavered. It was in the quiet moments between that she could be seen staring down at her hands without seeing them. It was written in the smiles that she forced for their sake. It was demonstrated in the way that she avoided her cabin except to shower and dress or sleep for a few hours. The light that drew them to her was beginning to fade. They were determined to bring it back. 

Their final shore leave was spent showing her that they were there for her not only as her crew but as her family. She had held them up for years. It was their turn to do the same for her. While she was with them, she was able to push Hackett out of her mind. It was when she was alone that her eyes were drawn to the adjoining wall. He wasn’t there but his space was. She passed by his door every time she entered or left her apartment and the glowing red lock seemed to mock her. She decided that she would use the apartment while the war was on but that she was going to return it to Anderson when all of this was over. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life living next door to the man who’d held her heart since she was sixteen years old and had so easily discarded it any more than she could continue to work under him. She drafted her resignation letter in the evenings and polished it until it was right. She had tolerated being the Alliance’s scapegoat and whipping girl for long enough. She would finish out the war and figure out something new from there.

The party her crew insisted on was a roaring success. She briefly entertained the idea of a drunken fling with Vega to get her mind off of the absentee admiral but discarded it just as quickly and clung tighter to her control. By the time they were ready to return to the fray, she was wound so tightly she thought she might snap at the slightest pressure. She stared out at her ship as she waited for her crew. She thought of all she had gained and all she’d lost. Melancholy had become a familiar companion and it wrapped its arms heavily around her again. Even Joker’s attempts to cheer her fell flat. She was ready for this to be over. 

She kept the briefing with Hackett prior to Cronos Station as short as she could. Seeing him even through holo was too much of a reminder of what she’d lost. His voice in her ear throughout the mission was no better. It drove daggers into her that combined with the information EDI found on her reconstruction to leave her a raw and ragged mess inside. Killing Kai Leng went a long way toward centering her again. She simply wished it was the Illusive Man himself. The news that the Citadel was the Catalyst and had been moved to Earth was almost welcome. That meant that the end was in sight. One more battle, one final fight, and she would be done. She could rest. She could take the _Normandy_ and vanish somewhere where she wasn’t Commander Shepard and didn’t have to save everyone. 

Mindoir, she decided. She should have died there with her mother and brother. She’d lived, clearly for this purpose. Once she’d accomplished what she’d been spared to do, she could go home.


	23. Chapter 23

Hackett boarded the _Normandy_ for the final brief with Shepard before their attack on Earth. She greeted him on the bridge and he was stunned and dismayed at the changes in her. Her skin was drawn and pale. Her eyes held shadows both in and beneath them. Her dress blues were just a shade too loose and hung in places where they’d once clung. Her face was expressionless and her body language was tense. He knew his girl. She was holding herself together under willpower alone. Even Anderson could draw only the slightest hint of herself from her out and the holo didn’t disguise the look of concern he shot Hackett when Shepard left the room. 

“All right, Steven,” David said. “What’s going on? She can’t fight a war like this. Have you been monitoring her stress levels since Thessia? They’re consistently higher than they were during her final hours on Elysium even when she’s at rest. She is going to break.”

Hackett rubbed his hands across his face. “It’s personal,” he said shortly.

David stepped forward furiously and said, “Whatever you’ve done, fix it. Now! We need her on top of her game. She has no idea the hell she’s walking into.”

He found her in her cabin with her guitar across her lap. Her eyes were carefully blank as she rose to attention and said, “The _Normandy_ is ready for your word, Admiral.”

“At ease,” he said. “We need to talk.”

She gave him a wide berth as she stepped around him to retrieve a datapad from her desk. She looked down at it and said, “Since you’re here, I’ll give this to you now.”

“What is it?” he asked, looking at it warily. 

She went to a relaxed parade rest and said, “I am officially tendering my resignation from the Alliance Navy effective immediately upon cessation of hostilities with Reaper forces, si—Admiral.”

“You’re leaving?” he asked in disbelief. “What will you do? Where will you go?”

“Mindoir,” she said. 

“You’re going home?” he asked. This was not what he’d expected.

“I have no home, Admiral,” she said. “I’m going back where I began.”

Her words—and the empty tone behind them—twisted like a knife in his heart. “Shepard, I—”

“Commander,” she said.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“It’s Commander, Admiral,” she said. Her jaw clenched when she said, “I need…I need for you to maintain professional distance if you want me to...the lines are blurring with you here.” She walked over to the fish tank and looked into it. He didn’t know if she was watching the fish swim or if she simply wanted the excuse to turn her back on him. He looked around the cabin as she regained her composure. The signs here were as subtle but obvious to him as the ones on her person. Her bedding had been stripped down to the bare mattress. He shuddered as he remembered what had happened there. There was a pillow on the couch and her sheet and blanket were carefully and neatly folded beneath it as if she’d taken to sleeping on it. She’d seen the vid of what had occurred on that bed. She no longer slept there. 

The chess board she’d acquired on Omega still stood on her table but the pieces had been cleared leaving only the holographic queen lying in front of the holographic king. He cocked his head as he studied it. If she had been playing and it had simply been left as it was at the end of the game, the king from one side should have been the one down while the queen from the other stood. It was a message and one that he understood clearly. She was the holo queen. He was the holo king. Once, they’d been on the same side and fighting together. It wasn’t the enemy that had conquered her. It was her own king. It was betrayal from within. It was him. 

“She played you very well, Shepard,” he said softly. 

“I know,” she said. “I saw. If you’re wondering if I’m me or if I’m her…I killed my mother to keep her from the batarians. That should be proof enough.” When he didn’t respond, she raised her hands to her neck and he saw a flash as she lifted the chain of her dog tags. She did something to them and tucked them back in before turning to him. He reached out automatically when she did and he felt warm metal press against his palm. “Goodbye, Admiral,” she said and turned away again. He looked down to see the dog tag he’d given her the night she’d told him she loved him. When he looked up again, she was facing the tank once more. Her hands were clasped behind her and her fists clenched tightly enough to leave crescent indentations in her skin. Her shoulders trembled slightly and her breath hitched. She was crying. He’d only ever seen her cry after Aratoht. After everything she’d been through, after Mindoir and Elysium and Torfan and dying and almost getting spaced a second time and losing an untold number of friends right in front of her, she’d never cried for herself. She was fighting it now and doing her best to hide it from him. 

Liara had been right. He had been the one to break her. T’Soni was wrong, though, when she implied belief that it had been intentional. However, that fickle bitch hindsight chose that moment to show him how his actions could be construed in such a way. He had failed to protect her over and over again. She was the strongest person he had ever known and could protect herself against seemingly any enemy. She was the queen, the warrior, the most dangerous piece on the board. However, he was the one with the power and he’d failed to use it in her defense. He’d let her get sent out to the Terminus Systems where she’d died because the Council and Defense Committee wanted her out of the way for their whitewash. They’d certainly gotten their wish. He’d known she wanted to return to the Alliance when she’d been brought back. He could have made that happen and he didn’t. He could have told the batarians to go to hell after Aratoht. Instead, he’d bowed to pressure and thrown her to the wolves. She deserved better. She deserved a king who would stand behind her and use his power to protect her. 

“I’m sorry, Shepard,” he said softly and turned to leave.

“Why?” she asked quietly. He stopped. “Did you care at all? Was any of it real? Shit.” She slammed her fist against the glass, making the fish dart in separate directions. 

“It was real,” he said. 

“Then why?” she asked again. “At least give me that before I walk into hell for you again. Why did you just walk away? How was it so easy for you? How do you just turn it off? Tell me so I can do it, too.”

“You deserve better, Shepard,” he said. “The things I’ve done to you…seeing them in that light was…illuminating. I _cut_ you. I hit you. I treated you like an object rather than a person. And then, when you…when the clone suggested that I take what I thought was you against your will, I did it. I knew something was wrong but I let her convince me that I was mistaken. I know intellectually that it wasn’t you but it doesn’t change the fact that I thought it was and I did it anyway and then someone who looked and sounded exactly like you was calling me a rapist and an abuser and telling INA that I’d mistreated you and the hell of it is that she was _right_.”

“Bullshit,” Shepard said. “I consented. There was nothing that you did to me that I didn’t like or want. I’m not so weak that I couldn’t tell you to stop if I needed to or tell you no if I didn’t want to do something. She took something beautiful and twisted it into something ugly. If I’d known what she’d done, I’d have torn her limb from limb with my bare hands. She told me she was going to take everything I have and everything I am. She was right. She did. She took everything that matters when she took you. She took the one thing I can’t be me without.”

“You deserve better,” he said again.

She turned to face him and said fiercely, “Then _be better_! Stand by me. Be what you think I deserve. Saying that I deserve better and then taking away the one thing that I truly need is a cop out. Be better, Steven. Don’t just walk away like a bastard. Or just admit that I’m not what you want and that the clone gave you a convenient way out and go. But don’t leave me here wondering what the hell is wrong with _me_.”

“There is _nothing_ wrong with you, girl,” he said staunchly. 

“Then why don’t you want me anymore?” she demanded furiously.

“I do!” he shouted. “I love you with every single atom in my being, Shepard. I have since the moment I saw you standing in that field covered in blood and holding a shard of glass but you were too young and I knew it. I stayed away from you and let you grow up and then you joined the Alliance and I stayed away again because I could have ruined your career. I married a woman I didn't love because I thought it would get you out of my head. It didn't work so I let her go. Then you died and came back working for Cerberus and I saw my chance. You were an adult. You weren’t with the Alliance. It was the only shot I was ever going to get with you. And then I threw you to the wolves to save my own hide because the Reapers were coming and I could do more about it than you could. I sacrificed you to buy us time to prepare, time that I wouldn’t have needed if I’d just listened to you in the first place! How the hell can you forgive that? This shit with the clone just made it worse. It made me sick to realize that I could enjoy hurting you.” 

“You feel guilty, so you’re just going to _leave_?” she demanded. “You’re the one who said that what we do is not the basis of our relationship. You don’t want to do it anymore? I won’t ask for it. I like it. I’ll miss it. But if it’s a choice between having you and having what we do, I’m going to choose you. I _like it_ when you hurt me. I _love_ you.”

“It doesn’t disturb you at all after seeing those vids?” he asked.

“Steven,” she said. “I could take a vid of anything I do and make it look horrible if I wanted to. If what we did wasn’t consensual, then yes, it would be fucked up. I wouldn’t go to INA. I’d just kill you and you know it. We both gave consent every time. You have never caused me harm. The pain you cause is enjoyable. Hell, the only time I’ve ever told you to stop was from _tickling_! You have never used your authority to get me to do anything dishonorable or unethical. She was the one who was twisted. She was eaten alive by jealousy and she twisted everything she touched so that it appeared through her lens. That’s a problem with her, not us. The problem with us is that instead of talking to me, you disappeared and threw up a wall between us so we couldn’t fix it.”

“I was wrong,” he said.

“Yeah, you were,” she agreed. “Damn. Admiral Hackett’s human just like the rest of us. What ever will we do?” she asked with a small grin. Her face turned serious again a moment later. “Do you want to be with me or not? That’s what it comes down to. Are we going to fix this or walk away?”

“I want you,” he said. “I don’t think I deserve you but I want you.”

She closed the distance between them and said, “I’ve missed you, sir.”

“My girl,” he growled as he pulled her to him and brought his mouth to hers. His lips and tongue demanded entrance and she responded back in kind. His arms were steel bands that crushed her softer chest against his solid one and his hands clenched tightly when her fingers threaded through his silver hair. He pushed her up against the fish tank without breaking the kiss. His hands were almost frantic as he stripped her of her uniform. The tank was cool against her bare ass and she hissed in a breath that had belonged first to him. His fingers brushed lightly against her before delving inside and she brought her legs up to wrap around his waist. She nipped his lip and he groaned loudly and withdrew his fingers, drawing a cry of frustration from her. 

He turned and carried her through the cabin where he took them down onto the bare bed and framed her face in his hands. “God, how I missed you, Shepard,” he said intently. He knelt up on the bed and divested himself of his shirt and pants and then pushed her thighs apart before dragging his tongue along her. She fisted her hands on the mattress and called out his name as he slipped a finger inside of her and began to stretch her. A second finger joined the first and she moved against him as his free hand glided up her body to cup her breast and tweak her nipple. Her head fell back and her body bowed up off of the mattress as the combined stimulation of her oversensitive nerves overwhelmed her. He licked his way up her body, pausing here and there to drop kisses over her, and pressed himself against her. His eyes locked onto hers as he began to ease into her. 

“Steven!” his name tore itself from her throat as her legs locked around his hips. 

“What do you need, girl?” he asked against her ear.

“You. More. You. Please,” she gasped.

“I can do that,” he said. “I’ve got you. Let go, sweetheart.” 

She rocked up into him and clung tightly to him as he hilted himself inside of her. He kissed her, another of those deep, thorough kisses that made her forget that anything existed outside of the two of them, and began to move. She didn’t have the patience for a slow, gentle lovemaking and communicated this to him through the nails that she ran down his back. He lifted his head and looked at her, ensuring that she was ready, before driving into her hard and fast. She locked around him and rode the storm with him as they both chased a reassurance that they were still, in this moment, alive and had found each other again. She fell apart in his arms and he followed swiftly after, emptying himself into her as she cried his name.

After, he held her close to him as his hands roamed over her body. She slipped from the bed to retrieve the pillow and blanket. He placed the pillow beneath his head and spread the blanket over them as she curled herself around him and tucked her head into his shoulder. Her heavy sigh stirred the hairs on his chest and she asked, “How long do we have?”

“A few hours,” he said. “I’ve left word that I be notified when the remainder of the fleet arrives. You have time to sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she said. “I keep thinking that this is it. This could be the last time we have together. I don’t want to miss out on it.”

“Neither do I, girl,” he said, “but you need rest. You haven’t been sleeping and that’s my fault. I’m here now. Sleep.”

“Yes, sir,” she said and closed her eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, girl. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making this up to you,” he vowed.

“The rest of your life, hmm?” she asked. “Is that a proposal, Admiral?”

“If you think I’m letting you go again, you’re insane,” he said. 

“Okay,” she said on a yawn. “If you leave again, I’m going to come after you. I always find my target and you won’t have the Crucible to hide behind.”

“About that resignation,” he said. 

“You weren’t the only reason for it,” she said. “Liara seems to think I’d make a good Councilor. I think she’s crazy.”

“I think she’s right,” he said. “That’s why I suggested you for it when they asked.”

“I suck at politics,” she protested.

“Says the woman who united the galaxy and ended two historic wars,” he said. 

“I yelled a lot and killed things,” she said. “I don’t think that’ll be an option with the Council.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. 

“We have to survive the day first,” she agreed. 

“And for that, you need sleep,” he said and began to thread his fingers through her hair. She relaxed and nuzzled his neck before her breathing deepened and she finally obeyed.


	24. Chapter 24

“Shepard?” Hackett shouted when he heard her rattling breath through her comm. “Commander Shepard, answer me!” There was only silence. “Don’t you dare die on me, girl. That’s an order!”

“Sir?” she gasped weakly. 

He gripped the rail of the command center and bent forward. He was going to lose her. He’d heard the rattle in her breath enough times to know what it meant. She’d made it to the Citadel but she was dying and there was nothing he could do. “I’m here, girl.”

“I can’t…see,” she said in a small voice. “I don’t think…I’m so tired, sir.”

He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to tell her it would be all right. He wanted to tell her he was coming for her. He had no idea where she was. “I know,” he said. “Stay with me. I need you to figure out why the Crucible isn’t firing.” He heard her grunt and a long, pained groan as she strained followed by a wet thud. “Shepard!”

“I love you,” she whispered. 

He slammed his fist against the railing and squeezed his eyes shut as he silently cursed gods and fate and Reapers and war. She was too far gone. It was over. “I love you, too, girl.” There was no answer and he stared blankly at the galaxy map in front of him as his world crumbled around him. Everything was lost. They had failed. She had done her best but they hadn’t done enough to back her up. He’d failed her. Again. 

“Sir, the Crucible is active!” one of his men called out. “She did it!”

“All ships, report to the rendezvous point!” he ordered as his heart leapt in his chest. She’d done it. That meant she was alive, at least for the moment. 

“Sir, the _Normandy_ is refusing to retreat.” The notification from his XO was unsurprising. Joker and the rest of the crew would not leave their commander unless given no other option even if they believed that she was gone. His knuckles were white on the railing of the command post as he debated the hardest decision he would ever make in his career. Stay or go. The Crucible was active and about to fire. They had no idea what the pulse would do. It could disable or destroy their ships. Shepard was gravely injured at best. She was up there alone. Like she’d been over Alchera. 

He straightened his shoulders and said, “Patch me through.”

When he connected with the _Normandy_ , Joker said, “I know what you’re going to say and with all due respect, sir, we are not leaving Shepard behind!”

“I understand, Flight Lieutenant,” he said. “That’s why the _Kilimanjaro_ is staying. Get your ass to the rendezvous point. I need you prepared to return as soon as it’s clear in case the blast disables our ship. The _Normandy_ is faster than this dreadnought.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Joker answered. “Moreau out.”

“Sir?” his XO asked, looking uncertain. 

“We will not leave Commander Shepard behind,” Hackett stated. “All hands, brace for impact.” The Crucible fired, sending out an energy pulse that he could feel pass through his body. “Report!” he shouted and his men began throwing out a litany of status reports that, in the end, told him that the Reapers were inactive and the ship was still spaceworthy. It was good enough for the moment. He pushed off of the railing and said, “Moore, Evans, Peterson, Simons, Jackson, Fuller, with me. Wrangley, get me as close to the Citadel as you can. Johnson, prepare the shuttle for launch. All medical personnel, report to the shuttle bay.” 

The soldiers he’d selected ran across the bridge and joined him in the elevator. The dreadnought was massive and it seemed to take an eternity for the group to reach the bay. Johnson was waiting with the bay doors open and the group piled in. His foot tapped out a staccato rhythm on the shuttle deck as his mind raced. Finding her would be the most difficult part. He didn’t know where she’d ended up. He activated his omni-tool and set it to scan for hers. If it hadn’t been damaged, it could narrow down her location. He divided the men up into three-person teams with a medic assigned to each one. The shuttle landed at the beam and they ran through in their groups. 

He was met with a nightmare. His troops looked around the dark passageway with wide eyes and open mouths. He’d landed on his hands and knees and felt cold, congealing liquid seep through the fabric of his fatigues and between his fingers. It squelched when he stood and he was grateful that he was wearing his boots rather than his dress shoes. He heard a wet plop and looked up to see more of the thick, dark liquid dripping from the ceiling. The passageway smelled like the slaughterhouse back in Rio where he’d grown up and the smell combined with the sight of the bodies piled up like so much trash made his stomach turn. He gripped his rifle and signaled his men forward. Shepard had walked through this alone and injured. 

The passageway opened up to a chasm like nothing he’d ever seen before. They followed the path, scanning for enemy contact. There was none. At the top of a ramp, Peterson found what he thought was once the Illusive Man. Hackett saw Anderson sitting up against some kind of base and thought for a moment that his friend was merely resting. He knelt beside him and closed David’s eyes. 

There was a smeared puddle of blood beside him and Hackett’s heart began to pound. It was hers. It had to be hers. He’d seen blood loss like that before. The doctor, Jenson, looked at him and shook his head. Hackett said tersely, “Find her,” and turned to follow the smeared trail. It led to a console that bore another bloody handprint. He pictured her lying on the floor, reaching blindly for the controls, and falling back. This was where he’d last heard her. A closer look at the floor showed that it was not part of the rest. A lift of some sort, maybe? He looked up but saw nothing. Another trail of blood led off of it but ended at the edge. She’d gotten off somewhere. He tried to find a control for the lift but could see nothing to make it work. 

“Sir!” Moore called out. “I hear something!”

Hackett stood and ran over to the group of people sifting through the blackened debris. “Quiet!” he ordered. They stopped and cocked their heads to listen. A small ping like something striking against metal chimed a short distance away. It was repeated a moment later and then again. “There!” He climbed over a large concrete beam toward the sound. “Shepard!” he called out. The ping was louder this time. He was closer but she’d also put more force into it. She was alive and she was conscious. It was more than he’d dared to hope. He sent coordinates for the shuttle to pick them up.

“Sir! I think I found her!” Peterson called out. 

Hackett ran to him but could see only charred rubble. “Shepard!” he called again. He saw a small chunk of concrete fly out of a pile to clank against a fallen metal beam. She could move but not much. He began throwing chunks of concrete out of the way. “Careful!” he said as the others joined in. If they stirred up too much dust, she could choke. If they moved the wrong piece, it could all collapse in on her. He wanted to dig quickly but had to balance speed with caution. “We’re here, Shepard,” he said as they worked. “Just hold on, baby. Stay with me, girl. We’re almost there.”

The flash of her dog tags was all that indicated that they had reached a person rather than more debris. Her armor was burnt and melted and her skin was blackened and covered in blood and soot and dirt. Her breaths were shallow and agonized and he heard again that dreaded rattle. The shuttle landed. Beside him, Evans opened a stretcher as Jenson searched for a place to safely inject medigel. When he’d found one, he maneuvered her onto the stretcher and motioned for Moore and Peterson to take the rails with himself and Evans. Hackett leaned over her and stroked the air over her head, afraid to touch her and cause more pain. Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped, “Did it…work, sir?”

“It worked,” he told her as they began to move. “You did it, girl. Stay with me. Dear god, don’t leave me now.”

“That an…order…sir?” she whispered.

“You’re damn right,” he told her as they loaded her onto the shuttle. There wasn’t room for everyone, so the soldiers volunteered to wait with Anderson whom they’d be returning for anyway. Hackett stepped back to give the medics room to work. 

She was taken to the med bay. When he tried to follow, Jenson ordered him out. He stared at the closed door in stunned bewilderment. He was about to go in anyway when his XO called him to the bridge. The fleet was reporting in. He made note of all that were accounted for but made him repeat the list when he had finished. “What about the _Normandy_?” he asked.

“No word, sir,” was the reply.

“Let me know as soon as you hear from them,” he ordered. 

As much as he wanted to return to Shepard and be by her side, there were an untold number of things that needed to be done and he had to coordinate them all. Preliminary reports were beginning to come in. The relays in the sectors where their ships were had been damaged and weren’t activating. The fleet would have to return via FTL which would take time. Long-range comms were down. He communicated with his ships via QEC and their short-range communicators. The damage to the Citadel was extensive and the reports from Earth were disheartening. However, there was no sign of activity from the Reapers and their ground forces had fallen when the Crucible fired. 

It was hours later before he was able to return to the med bay. He heard her screams before he reached the door and ran through. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded as he waited impatiently for the decon cycle to run and allow him into the room. 

“Debridement, sir,” Jenson answered tersely. “We can’t keep her sedated. It’s wearing off too quickly and I’m afraid to overdose her.”

“Figure something out, damn it!” he snapped. 

“We need an asari,” Jenson said. 

Hackett connected with his comm specialist and ordered him to connect him with someone on the Citadel. Commander Bailey answered, sounding stressed but overjoyed to hear that Shepard was alive and the war was over. He promised to send someone as soon as he could. Hackett went to the head of the bed so that she could see him. The suffering in her eyes pierced him. He’d gone through what they were doing to her now on a much smaller scale. It was the worst pain he’d ever experienced in his life. He’d seen battle hardened soldiers bigger than her reduced to screaming children from the treatment. “Look at me, girl,” he said. “I know it hurts. Breathe, sweetheart.” 

Half an hour later, a shuttle docked and a few minutes after that, a tall asari in a skintight red leather outfit rushed into the room and began the decon cycle. “How can I help?” she asked. Hackett recognized the justicar and breathed a sigh of relief.

Jenson said, “Meld with her. If her pain levels aren’t reduced soon, the stress on her body is going to kill her.”

The asari nodded and he moved to allow her to take his place at the head of the bed. She looked down at Shepard and touched her unburnt forehead with exquisite care. Shepard groaned and looked up at her. A single tear trickled from the corner of her eye. Samara said gently, “Close your eyes, Shepard. Embrace eternity.” Her eyes went black and a moment later, Shepard’s face relaxed and some of the tension went out of her muscles. Samara’s brow furrowed but she remained unmoving. 

“Oh, thank God,” Jenson said. 

“What do you need?” Hackett asked.

“Another surgeon, a full operating room and team, and a copy of her medical records,” Jenson answered. “The first two aren’t going to happen. I’ve got Evans on the latter but the extranet is down and he’s trying to track down someone at Huerta Memorial who can see if they have them on local file there. If we could get her ship or her doctor, it would be simple.”

Samara said, “Mordin Solus was on the Citadel.”

Hackett ordered Moore to locate the salarian doctor if he’d managed to survive. “How long can you hold that?” he asked.

“As long as it takes,” she replied calmly. “It is not a perfect system. She is still in pain but I can take some of it into myself and block her awareness of part of it as well in order to bring it down to a manageable level. She is strong. Her focus helps. I am attempting to direct her attention to positive memories. I must apologize for the invasion of your privacy as most of them involve you in some way.”

“If it helps her, you can invade all you want,” he said. 

“Sir,” Jenson said and looked up at him. “I can’t save this leg with the supplies I have here. Her risk of infection if I wait to act is steadily increasing. She has too many open avenues of exposure already. Huerta or a hospital on Earth might have what I need but I don’t think she can afford the time it would take to locate and get it here.”

“Samara?” he asked. “Is she aware of what’s going on?”

“Peripherally,” Samara answered. “She understands what must be done.”

“Can you handle it?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said simply.

“Do it,” Hackett said. 

Several hours later, Mordin joined them. Jenson stepped away to confer with him and they were able to find a dosage of the sedative that would allow Shepard to be put under and remain there. Samara held until she was fully under and then released her. The matriarch looked dazed and stumbled once as she made her way to the bed beside Shepard’s. She sat and began to massage her left leg. When she saw Hackett looking at her, she said, “I am attempting to remind my body that the limb is still there.”

“You didn’t just take some of the pain,” he realized. “You experienced it with her. You’ve been holding that meld for hours.”

“She was in pain,” Samara said. “I owe Shepard a great debt. I vowed that I would come whenever she had need of me.”

After another hour, the doctor and Mordin stepped back from Shepard. Jenson said, “She’s going to need more surgeries. I have her stabilized and I’ve done what I can to reduce infection. Dr. Solus believes her cybernetics should help expedite the healing process but it’s still going to take time. She needs a real hospital.”

“We’ll find one,” Hackett said. “Until then, do whatever it takes.”

Three days later, she was moved to Huerta Memorial. She’d contracted an infection and had to be quarantined as her immune system was shot. Her crewmembers who had been on Earth began to trickle in as shuttle routes were set up. Hackett divided his time between the hospital and his command center on board the _Kilimanjaro_. He waited for word of the _Normandy_ which did not come. Mordin and Dr. Michel assumed her care. The fourth day that she was in the hospital, the doctors took her back in to surgery when her heart began to fail. Hackett paced the waiting room with her anxious crew until the doctor came and told them she’d made it through. He was allowed to see her again a week later. The doctor had applied skin grafts and set the bones that had been broken. She’d undergone a transplant of her liver and kidneys and a lung that had been burned. She was still sedated but her heart was beating and she was breathing. He was grateful that she was alive. 

The _Normandy_ limped back to the Citadel five weeks later. She woke up the day it arrived. He was reading Joker’s report when she said in a rough voice, “Sir.”

His head shot up and he leapt from the chair, dropping the datapad on the floor. “Shepard,” he said.

“Water,” she croaked.

He laughed, overjoyed that she had come back to him. “I can do that.” He called the doctor before fetching a cup of water and a straw and helping her raise her head to drink. She was asleep again before he laid her back but it was a start.

She was released four weeks later. Their apartments had been damaged but not destroyed and her crew had worked tirelessly to restore them. It had been Garrus who’d suggested knocking out the wall between the units and combining them. Hackett had agreed. It was more space than the two of them needed but he already knew that it would be rare that it was just them and would not occur at all until the relays were repaired. He brought her home to her crew. She smiled widely as they each came forward to greet her but he saw her looking at the empty spaces where some of them should have been. 

Her recovery was slow but steady and she learned to walk again on the prosthetic limb that Mordin grafted. Her body healed but the damage to her mind and spirit would take much longer. She woke multiple times in the night from nightmares and he would hold her until the shaking ceased and she fell back into a fitful sleep. Sudden loud noises would cause her to reach for a weapon that was not there. She was always cold but the sight of the fire in the fireplace left her trembling and breathless. She went through a period of depression and self-loathing where Mordin advised that she be monitored at all times. It was followed by weeks where she sat silently and stared blankly at the walls. She was nonresponsive for so long that he requested that Javik touch her. The Prothean informed him that what they saw as emptiness was in fact actually sensory overload. She had been forced to put off processing the events of the past years for so long due to the constant need to keep moving. The time that she’d spent on house arrest had given her the opportunity to deal with some of it but the strain she’d been under had not allowed her to truly work through it. Dr. Chakwas said to give her time. 

He likely would have been overwhelmed by caring for her had it not been for her crew. Contrary to Shepard’s fear that they would view her as weak if they saw her stumble, they actually seemed grateful for the chance to repay everything she’d done for them. Their methods varied and sometimes bordered on the ridiculous but, once she’d come back enough to do so, she responded to each of them in different ways. Liara played the piano on occasion or gave her news of people she had gotten to know over the years. Garrus joked with her and was usually able to draw at least a small smile and sometimes even a chuckle. Grunt read Hemingway’s _A Farewell to Arms_ to her. Jack brought Eezo and the varren spent hours curled up in her lap while she petted him somewhat absently. Kaidan and Vega cooked meals for the group. Tali sat with her and watched vids that sometimes held her attention. Samara taught her to meditate. Zaeed told her war stories. Kasumi brought things that she found that she thought would engage Shepard tactilely. Jacob brought his baby. She held the child and traced its tiny features with her calloused finger. Cortez sat with her often. Hackett didn’t know what they talked about but the soft-spoken shuttle pilot could get her to engage when no one else could.

She came out of it almost as quickly as she'd fallen into it. He was sitting by the bed with his guitar one morning when she looked up at him and smiled for the first time in months. He was so damn glad to have her back. He began to play as she sat up with her hair mussed and the blankets pooling around her waist. "And if I could swim, I'd swim out to you in the ocean, swim out to where you were floating in the dark. And if was blessed, I'd walk on the water you're breathing to lend you some air for that heaving, sunken chest. 'Cause they chose you as the model for their empty little dreams... And they hunt you and they gut you and you give in. And if I was brave, I'd climb up to you on the mountain. They led you to drink from their fountain spouting lies. And I'd slay the horrible beast they commissioned to steer me away from my mission to your eyes. And I'd stand there like a soldier with my foot upon his chest, with my grin spread and my arms out in my bloodstained Sunday best, and you'd hold me. I'd remind you who you are under their shell. I'd walk through hell for you. Let it burn right through my shoes. These soles are useless without you. Through hell for you. Let the torturing ensue. My soul is useless without you...Now, I've walked through hell for you. What's an adventurer to do but rest these feet at home with you."

The day she accepted the position as the human councilor was one of celebration; however, the best day came when Hackett got to watch Shepard walk down the aisle between their friends and family to join themselves officially and permanently. As she walked toward him, he remembered all of the steps they’d taken to get here. It had been a long road but one that he wouldn’t have missed for all the galaxy. After almost two decades, they were finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is "A Walk Through Hell" by Say Anything. I own none of it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CMbc7djkCq4


End file.
